


The Best Man

by 50shadesofsassmaster



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Best Man, Fluff, M/M, Made of Honor - Freeform, Maid of Honour, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Friendship, University, Wedding, possible future smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-12 11:01:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50shadesofsassmaster/pseuds/50shadesofsassmaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘Engaged!’ </p><p>The word stretches Harry’s mouth into a wide, pink smile and fuck. Well if Louis had wanted to punch the grinning, blonde hulk holding Harry’s leg possessively before, it was nothing to how he felt now. </p><p>---------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>Harry’s is getting married and Louis is completely and utterly enamoured with the idea of being his Maid of Honour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flight Risk

**Author's Note:**

> Basically a complete and shameless Larry Stylinson rip-off of the film Made of Honor (if you haven't seen it, please do! It's so bad yet SO GOOD)

**Birmingham University 2012**

 

‘SHINE BRIGHT LIKE A DIAMOND!’

 

Louis shook his head vehemently as his blonde friend draped himself, chuckling around his shoulders.

 

‘For fucks sake Niall!’ he yelled over the thumping beat of Rihanna, ‘Show some respect! You’ve got to hold the end! Diamonddddd’

 

‘SHINE BRIGHT LIKE A-‘ Niall managed before petering off into hysterical giggles, planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Louis rolled his eyes disentangling himself and pointing a wobbling finger at his flushed friend.

 

‘You’re pissed mate!’ Niall batted the finger away laughing helplessly.

 

‘So are you Clarke!’ he managed to choke out, prodding the giant S emblazoned across Louis’ chest.

 

‘Reveal my secret identity to everyone then dickhead!’ Louis hissed as Niall grabbed another Corona from the slack hand of a girl passed out on the sofa, taking a long swig. ‘Shameless.’ Louis laughed, shaking his head.

 

‘I’m a leprechaun,’ slurred Niall, brandishing his plastic pot of gold as proof, ‘free beer is one of the perks!’ Louis was about to make a scathing comment about originality of costume choices when his phone buzzed.

 

**_Ready and waiting babe. Room 290 ;) xxx_ **

****

‘That’s my cue Nialler!’ he grinned, stuffing his phone down his tights and whisking his cape over his shoulder dramatically. ‘The man of steel is about to get well and truly fucked.’ Shooting a final salute to his giggling friend, he started to fight his way through the party-goers, catching a glimpse of Zayn singing ‘A Whole New World’ to a very worried looking Batman.

 

It was times like these, Louis reflected, when he realised quite how much he loved university: the parties, the people, the swarms of first year girls that surrounded him, trying to cop a feel of that famous Tomlinson bum. One blonde curled herself seductively round his side, handing him a jager shot, which he tossed back merrily before catching a glimpse at the brunette snaking her arms around his waist.

 

‘Eleanor?!’ he asked incredulously, giving her sexy secretary outfit a once over. Her smile twisted into a pout as she lowered her glasses at him. Fuck. Not Eleanor then. ‘Oh shit! Lois!’ He cried, launching himself out of the girls’ grip and through the fire door into the stairwell, his laughter surprising the couples which littered the hall.

 

He half ran, half fell down the stairs, emerging in what he thankfully recognised as Eleanor’s hallway.

 

‘Happy Halloween Superman!’ He turned to see a dark haired girl in a thoroughly inappropriate costume looking him up and down appreciatively.

 

‘Back at you Snow White!’ he grinned, giving her a wink and mentally storing her face for future reference.

 

He turned his attention to door numbers through the alcohol induced haze, absent-mindedly running a finger round his empty shotglass before sucking it clean.

 

‘Where is 290?’ he murmured to himself, pushing through the crowd. His eyes alighted on a door. ‘Bingo!’ He pushed down on the handle, grinning as he realised that halls still hadn’t got around to installing a locking system.

 

The room was dark when he entered, the soft glow of a candle being the only illumination. Louis wrinkled his nose at the overwhelming smell of lavender. He’d never understood why girls thought that kind of shit was romantic. Herbs had never been a turn on for him.

 

‘Eleanor?’ he hissed at the dark shape on the bed, stumbling a little over the carpet and shutting the door behind him. ‘It’s superman.’ He fumbled at his cape, pulling it over his head and pushed his bright over-underpants and tights down to his ankles. ‘I’m going to take you on such a ride El. You ever heard of thighs of steel baby?’ He collapsed into hopeless giggles as the line left his lips, making a note to tell Zayn the next morning.  He finally managed to whip the tights off his feet and crept over to the bed. Eleanor still hadn’t stirred.

 

‘You little tease,’ Louis hissed delightedly, pulling back her duvet. ‘Eleanor?’ He rolled into bed, immediately meeting Eleanor’s bare back and grinning. He ran a hand over her shoulders and down her spine. ‘Have you been working out babe?’ he murmured, reaching down to her naked arse, and giving it a squeeze.

 

‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHH’ Before Louis could see what was happening a piercing scream was filling the room and he was being thrown bodily from the bed. Louis himself squealed embarrassingly high in panic, trying to work out what the hell was going on as a light flicked on and he was sprayed violently in the face with something that fucking _burned_ , while the terrified screams continued at a similar pitch to his.

 

‘MY EYES! MY EYES!’ He sobbed as the horrific spray attack didn’t stop and his something soft hit him on the head. His attacker’s screams had deteriorated into the most colourful swear words he had ever heard, a mean feat considering he lived with Niall. The spraying mercifully stopped after about the fourteenth ‘ _motherfucking shitballs’_ but Louis continued to writhe around in pain on the carpet, wondering what the fuck had gotten into Eleanor.

 

‘ARE YOU TRYING TO RAPE ME?!’ a low, rough voice yelled, the gruff tone not hiding a wobble of fear. ‘I’M CALLING THE POLICE.’

 

‘Nonononono wait!!’ Louis moaned, peering through his streaming eyes at the blurred figure looming over him. ‘Please I can explain! Eleanor! Where’s Eleanor?! I CAN’T FUCKING SEE!’

 

‘Eleanor Calder?!’ the voice asked in confusion, panic still evident in its tone. ‘Eleanor Calder’s at the other end of the FUCKING CORRIDOR. What are you doing in here?!’

 

‘She said her room was 290! This is 290! What the hell are you doing in her room you maniac?!’ his vision was slowly becoming clearer and he was faced with a set of wide green eyes and a mop of curly hair.

 

‘This is 298 you twat!’ the guy cried, pulling his duvet up to cover himself, ‘AND I’M NOT A MANIAC, YOU’RE A MANIAC!’ Louis caught the teddy that sailed towards him just before it hit him in the face and stared blearily into its squashed face, triggering another painful round of streaming eyes.

 

‘What the fuck did you spray at me, was that pepper spray?!’ he asked incredulously, trying to stem the flow of tears. The guy looked confusedly at what he was holding in his hand, like he had only just realised it was there before looking back at Louis.

 

‘Lynx… Africa,’ he answered and Louis groaned.

 

‘Great. I’m going to smell like a thirteen year old boy for weeks.’

~~~~

 

 

Louis bent over the random guy’s tiny sink, the cold tap soothing his bloodshot eyes. After making him stand outside, half naked and completely blind while the guy had put on some pyjamas, the younger boy had finally taken pity on him, and begrudgingly allowed him to use his sink to wash the spray from his face. Not before warning him against any ‘funny business’. To this, Louis had firmly informed him that he was not in fact gay, earning him nothing more than a scathing eyebrow. Louis had taken a kind of vindictive pleasure in the fact that despite the boy’s insistence on changing, he could still see right through the thin material of his pyjamas.

 

‘Oh, I’m going to be so careful who I get into bed with from now on,’ Louis groaned, blinking against the stream of water. Random boy snorted from where he was meticulously remaking his bed.

 

‘That’d be a big adjustment for you wouldn’t it?’ He muttered, reaching down to where some brightly coloured files had been knocked onto the floor. As soon as he picked them up however, a stream of papers cascaded out from within them.

 

‘Motherfucking shit,’ the boy cursed; hands scrabbling to get the notes back together, ‘I keep forgetting. This is like the hundredth time I’ve lost my hole-punch.’ Louis surveyed him, wringing out the flannel that random boy had graciously leant him and wandering over to collapse in an armchair at the foot of the boy’s bed.

 

‘I’ve invented a solution for that,’ he commented, ‘seriously.’ The boy glanced up at him from his position on the floor, clearly unimpressed. ‘It’s a hole punch that’s hole punched! So you can just take it with you, clips into your folder, and has the double action of keeping your papers down. Like a centimetre thick, and lightweight. I call it the portable punch. It’s the future!’ Random boy propped his folder back onto its pile and settled back onto his bed, looking at Louis testily.

 

‘I know all about you, I know your whole story,’ he said suddenly, leaning against the headboard and crossing his ankles.

 

‘You do?’ questioned Louis, smirking, dabbing at his eyes.

 

‘Yep,’ the boy answered immediately, ‘You’re a third year..’

 

‘Yuhuh,’

 

‘-Who preys on first years. You’ve slept with half my corridor.’ Louis shrugged, giving random boy a sleazy grin.

 

‘Well half your corridor is female!’ the boy rolled his eyes.

 

‘Whatever,’ he fell silent for a moment, ‘and you once met Robbie Williams which I suspect is total bullshit-’

 

‘No it’s true!’ Louis interrupted indignantly, ‘he signed my iPod! It’s downtown in my room with my portable punch if you want to see it?’ Louis winked at the boy sitting on the bed and his green eyes grew wide. He was, Louis reflected, almost ridiculously pretty.

 

‘Are you flirting?’ the boy sounded outraged and unsure at the same time, curling his legs up under himself as Louis bounced from the armchair onto his bed.

 

‘You need to lighten up! Like I said mate, I’m not gay!’ Louis laughed sweeping his fringe out of his eyes. And then suddenly random boy was defiantly up in his space and Louis felt a wobble of something like nerves in his stomach.

 

‘Well I am.’ The boy’s voice came and rough and close enough for Louis to feel and that was… well Louis wasn’t really sure what that was. Random boy’s eyes flickered down to his lips and Louis’ stomach swooped slightly again, feeling his tongue dart out to wet them without his permission. The boy gave him a filthy little smile that definitely didn’t go straight to Louis’ dick and relaxed back against the headboard. Louis felt himself breathing again and trying to work out what the fuck just happened.

 

‘And yet, I wouldn’t get with you if you paid me.’ Random boy grinned and Louis forced a laugh, relaxing back against the wall and covering his face with the flannel.

 

‘You haven’t seen me in tights mate,’ he snarked, causing the boy to chuckle. And well fuck, if that wasn’t the most beautiful sound Louis had ever had the pleasure of hearing.

 

‘You’re mental.’ The boy muttered and this time Louis laughed.

 

‘Nope, just honest! I believe honesty is the best policy.’ There was a pause, and then suddenly the flannel was whipped off his face. ‘OW?!’ he protested weakly as random boy settled himself in front of him.

 

‘You want me to be honest with you?’ Louis nodded, propping himself up to look at random boy properly. ‘I’m studying physiotherapy.’

 

‘Right,’ Louis nodded attentively.

 

‘And right now we’re studying perfect physiology.’ He gave Louis a once over with that filthy little smile that Louis was starting to enjoy. ‘Your frame is too compact for your shape, a feature that is accentuated by your tiny extremities and the weakness in your lumbar spine which, by the way, means you’ll probably have back problems later in life. And I feel sorry for you have to validate yourself through insatiable, meaningless, ego sports sex with insecure girls like Eleanor. I would never have sex with someone,’ he threw the flannel in Louis’ face and pushed himself up from the bed, ‘like you.’ the boy walked over to the door, opening it and smiling blithely at Louis.

 

‘Wow…’ Louis huffed out, grinning, ‘ _Wow.’_ It was a moment before he realised that the boy had left the room. ‘Hey wait!’ he called out, grabbing his cape and following random boy down the still busy corridor. ‘That was great!’ he panted, grabbing the boys arm.

 

‘What was?’ the boy asked, not stopping.

 

‘The honesty! It was like sex!’ random boy stopped to look incredulously at him, ‘without the… y’know,’ Louis looked at his feet.

 

‘Crying?’ the boy supplied cheekily. He considered for a moment, then resumed walking. ‘Actually it did feel quite good.’

 

‘No one’s ever been that honest with me before,’ Louis grinned, following.

 

‘It’s called being a friend,’ the boy supplied over his shoulder.

 

‘No, I’ve got friends,’ Louis insisted, ‘that was nothing like that!’

 

‘Best friends then,’ random boy came to a halt, grinning. Louis couldn’t tell whether he was being sarcastic or not.

 

‘I’m Louis by the way,’ he offered, thinking that a good place to start.

 

‘Harry,’ the boy grinned back.

 

‘Potter?’ Louis asked with a quick laugh.

 

‘That was really weak,’ Harry snorted.

 

‘Yeah well I can see through your pyjamas,’ retorted Louis, rewarded a second later with the blush that coloured Harry’s cheeks. The boy scoffed and opened the door they stood in front of.

 

‘Ah!’ exclaimed Harry in delight. Eleanor sat swaying slightly on the bed.

 

‘Louis is that you?’ she slurred, cat ears askew, ‘Can I see your Gary Barlow autograph?’ She peered up at him for a second, before grabbing her handbag from the floor and throwing up noisily into it.

 

‘She’s all yours… best friend,’ Harry said, sounding absolutely ecstatic with the way things had turned out. He turned and left Louis and Eleanor alone.

 

‘Get some sleep El,’ Louis said, rolling his eyes and snapping the light switch off. 


	2. Sundays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter! Thanks so much for the response on the first, it means a lot :) I'll probably be posting this pretty regularly.  
> Chapters will be corresponding to scenes in the film too, so sorry if this one's a bit of a filler!

**5 years later…**

Louis absolutely loved Sundays. He jolted awake to the sound of dustbin lids crashing together and a swift breeze sweeping across his face. He groaned a little as bright light assaulted him from between his cracked eyelids, propping himself up in a bed too soft to be his own. Who the fuck slept with the windows open in Central London anyway? Turning blearily onto his side, he started a little at the blonde girl splayed out dramatically next to him. He desperately cast around for a name… Anna?

 

‘Who are you?’ he murmured in a low voice, hoping she might answer in her sleep, a technique which admittedly had never worked before, but Louis was feeling fairly optimistic this morning. He cast about the room for more information when she didn’t answer, noting the garish floral wallpaper with distaste. ‘Who is this?’ he asked himself this time, slightly appalled that he had climbed into bed with a girl who’s interior decorating left this much to be desired.  He grabbed his phone from the bedside table and cursed as he caught sight of the time. Eight-thirty already. Shit. He was late.

 

Launching himself from the bed, he started collecting items of clothing and shuffling into them as he gazed out of the open window. The now almost completely risen sun had still tinged the clouds a pretty baby pink, the cool breeze just strong enough to disturb the blossom on the cherry trees across the road. It was a gorgeous day. And he was so very fucking late.

 

‘What are you doing tonight?’ Louis almost jumped out of his skin at the voice, spinning on his heel to face the bed, where Hannah, _that was it Hannah,_ was stretching lazily, a smile on her face.

 

‘I don’t do back-to-backs,’ he said firmly, giving her a curt smile and sitting down on the edge of the bed to button his shirt. There was a short pause, before he felt a hand creeping up his back and Hannah was curving herself around him giggling.

 

‘Wasn’t that what we were doing last night babe?’ she asked, kissing his jaw.

 

‘No, that was something different,’ Louis chuckled, turning his chin so it was out of reach, ‘Back-to-backs are seeing each other two nights in a row, and I don’t do that.’ He removed her arms which were snaking around his stomach by the wrists, shrugging her off. He didn’t understand why it was always so hard to comprehend.

 

‘Couldn’t you just break one of your stupid rules?’ Hannah pouted, folding her arms like a small child.

 

‘No.’ Louis answered shortly.

 

‘For me?’ she caressed his cheek and neck softly. Louis was starting to feel slightly like he was suffocating.

 

‘I’m sorry,’ he said firmly, ‘I don’t break the rules.’ He finally managed to extricate himself from the girl, rolling up his shirt sleeves and grabbing his jacket. He looked back to her finally to see her looking dejected and felt a stab of guilt. ‘I have a rule about that,’ he said apologetically, grabbing her face and kissing her softly, before racing out the room as fast as humanly possible.

 

It wasn’t that he found the girls a nuisance, Louis reflected as he hummed along to Capital, weaving in and out of rush hour traffic in his new audi, it was just that sometimes it felt a bit like he wasn’t where he was supposed to be, like he was settling. It was a small price to pay though, he grinned to himself as he started belting out Jessie J’s new single, for sleeping with every hot girl that London town had to offer.  He accelerated hard, nipping around a people-carrier and pulled in hard to the left hand kerb. He threw his Ray Bans on the dashboard and grabbed a few notes from the glove compartment before clambering a little ungracefully across into the passenger seat and out the door.

 

He’d always liked the university hospital library, with its polished floors and old smell. He remembered spending hours on end in here during his final year, lounging out on frayed, grey armchairs, listening to the murmur of study and preparing himself for the next patent interview. It took a light tapping on the desk to get the young librarian to glance up at him, and when she did, she flushed a pretty pink colour that reminded Louis of something. He grinned at her and she shook out her long, dark hair.

 

‘What a surprise!’ he said, leaning on the desk and keeping his voice light, ‘and here I was expecting some old woman called Muriel!’ She laughed a little, blushing harder and looking up at him from under her lashes.

 

‘Was there something you wanted sir?’ she asked him, her voice laden with meaning. He forced himself to concentrate on his instructions.

 

‘Err yes. Can I have the most recent clinical notes on tonality in Spastic Quadriplegia and Dystonic CP please? But not any of the cardio-respiratory stuff, just muscular skeletal and neurological? I think it’s reserved? Thanks.’ She bobbed her head and disappeared into the shelves of papers behind the desk. Nailed it.

 

He shuffled over to the collection point where an old woman was struggling to close a file bulging with notes.

 

‘Here, let me,’ he smiled, straightening the papers and clipping down what he recognised delightedly as a portable punch on top of them. ‘I hear these things are _fantastic,_ ’ he grinned, pointing.

 

‘Thank you!’ the old woman smiled, patting him on the arm, ‘absolute lifesaver it is, the entire education system has started giving them out as standard!’

 

‘Wow!’ Louis grinned wider, ‘I hear that the guy who invented these gets 50p every time one of these is issued you know!’

 

‘Your kidding!’ the old woman smiled, picking up her file to go.

 

‘I am not!’ he said mock indignantly, waving as she left before turning back to the library girl who had returned with a pile of papers, ‘That could add up!’

 

‘We’re not actually supposed to issue these to anyone who’s not a student,’ she said sighing, placing the papers on the top of the desk and resting her head dramatically in one hand.

 

‘Well… maybe we can come to some arrangement,’ laughed Louis, mirroring her actions. She gave him a hot, stripping look and he relaxed. Success.

 

‘I’ll put my number down just in case,’ she said, grabbing a post it note and scribbling down some digits, ‘You know,’ she continued with a pussycat smile, sticking the note onto the file, ‘for emergencies.’ He gave her a parting wink and then, balancing the files in his arms, strode out of the library. He was still going to be SO late.

 

 _‘Natalie,’_ he murmured appreciatively to himself as he threw the files along with the note into the passenger seat of his car and revved the engine.

 

~~~~~~

 

The hospital was busy for a Sunday, with harried looking nurses dashing backwards and forwards, shouting for morphine and bandages and other scary sounding things. Louis grimaced. He wasn’t the best at dealing with disorder or injury or pain at the best of times, and in his experience, a scene like this meant that people covered in their own blood would be pouring through the sliding A&E doors any time now. And Louis would not be sticking around for that thank you very much. He half ran through the corridors, avoiding gurneys on his memorised route to Outpatients. The corridors grew thankfully emptier as he hurried through them, and when he finally rounded the last corner, he was confronted by an empty waiting room and his favourite nurse looking bored out of her skull, picking her nails at the reception desk.

 

‘You’re late,’ she said without looking up.

 

‘And you’re ugly,’ he shot back. She stretched, stifling a yawn.

 

‘You got the notes!’ she said, surprised etched across her features.

 

‘Don’t I always Lou?’ he grinned, leaning an elbow on the desk, ‘and yet always the tone of surprise!’

 

‘Sometimes it seems like you don’t take anything seriously,’ she smiled, leaning over and pinching his cheek, ‘Except him. When’s the wedding by the way?’ Louis rolled his eyes, ignoring the blush rising on his neck.

 

‘Where is he anyway? And what’s going on back there?’ he jerked his thumb back the way he’d come. She sighed.

 

‘Lucky bastards, they’ve got a coach crash to deal with today. They get all the fun.’

 

‘Not what I’d call ‘all the fun’’ Louis muttered under his breath.

 

‘Anyway,’ Lou continued as if he hadn’t said anything, ‘he’s in there, working on my husband.’ She pointed to one of the patient rooms. ‘Not many appointments today, so they’ve taken to realigning each other’s joints. All a bit gay if you ask me.’ Louis laughed, following her finger.

 

‘Thanks dearest, see you in a bit!’ he shouted as he opened the door.

 

‘Anytime sweetpea!’ she shouted back.

 

He turned laughing to the room and was greeted with what was indeed, one of the gayest scenes he’s ever seen. Tom was laying face down on a treatment table in only his boxers, covered in baby oil, while Harry who was also shirtless, but mercifully wearing scrubs bottoms was massaging what might be called his lower back at a push. Tom let out a soft groan as Harry’s hands gave a final knead over his spine and Louis burst out in choked hysterics.

 

‘Ohmygod do you two want me to come back later?’ he managed to pant out as Tom looked up and waved and Harry’s face split into a wide grin. He wiped his oily hands off on the bare skin of his chest and Louis gulped a little, looking down at his toes.

 

‘CP notes,’ he announced, remembering the files in his hands and dropping them on the desk, ‘Just the way you like them.’ Harry clapped his hands happily.

 

‘Perfect! I’ve just finished working on Tom’s sciatica!’ he brought a hand down to deliver a swift slap to Tom’s bum.

 

‘Ow!’ Tom protested, rubbing his arse and sitting up properly this time. ‘I’m going to go tell my wife about how I’m leaving her for you Haz. You have magic hands.’ He shot a final grin at Louis and grabbed his scrubs, scuttling out of the room in his underwear. The small silence that followed was punctuated by Lou’s distant yell of _‘put some bloody clothes on you moron!’_ Harry and Louis both burst out laughing.

 

‘Come to papa,’ Harry said appreciatively, heading over to the table and starting to flick through the folder, while Louis jumped up on the still slightly oily treatment table. He watched the tattoos on Harry’s shoulders ripple as he flicked through the pages, still shiny with baby oil.

 

‘This is _perfect_ Lou,’ Harry said delightedly, flipping the pages of the folder over and turning around to face him again, ‘Exactly what I needed for my notes, thank you so much.’

 

‘Welcome,’ Louis mumbled before he was enveloped in Harry’s bear hug. He squeezed him back happily, before pulling away in disgust. ‘You’re all oily you dickhead!!’ Harry laughed, gripping on tighter while Louis struggled, finally managing to extricate himself by ducking under an arm. Harry carried on chuckling and picked up his shirt from where it had been slung over a seat, pulling it over his head.

 

‘You’re clocking off now right?’ Louis asked, glancing at the time on his phone.

 

‘Yeah, why?’ Harry ran his hands vigorously through his hair.

 

‘I made reservations,’ Louis grinned, ‘that Mexican place near Russell Square.’ Harry’s face lit up.

 

‘CP notes and lunch?! I might have to marry you Tommo!’

 

‘Yeah, get in line Styles,’ Louis shot back, laughing as Harry tucked him under his arm. Yep, Louis absolutely loved Sundays.


	3. The City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok this title has a lame ass name I know. This is number three! Felt a bit disjointed, but I'm writing it from a film so I guess that's to be expected. Thank you for all your love <3 I'm thinking of writing the next one from Harry's point of view. Also if anyone's enjoying this, wants to possibly help me with it, and lives in a relatively remote area of the US PLEASE message me on my tumblr 50shadesofsassmaster! I'll be eternally grateful. Hope you enjoy!

‘So which rule is this again?’ Harry asked, clearly fighting back a smile.

 

‘No back-to-backs,’ Louis answered, as he watched Harry help himself to some nachos and salsa.

 

‘But wait,’ the nacho stopped halfway to Harry’s mouth, ‘Isn’t that just the same as the once a week rule?’

 

‘No no no, see the once a week rule only works Mondays to Fridays-‘

 

‘Ohhh,’ Harry was smirking now, ‘So theoretically you could have a date on Monday _and_ Sunday without breaking it!’ He raised the Nacho to his lips again, munching happily.

 

‘Exactly! You’ve got it,’ Louis grinned, looking around for a waiter, ignoring Harry’s muttered _‘of course’._

‘Hey hey, excuse me, good morning,’ Louis called to a smiling dark haired waiter, who immediately made his way over to the table, wheeling the trolley of ready made food. ‘Er, can I get some chicken fajitas and the taco platter please? And can I include that salad instead of the melted cheese?’ The waiter nodded, dishing out the food before moving on to the next table.

 

‘Thank you,’ said Harry surprise colouring his voice.

 

‘For what?’ questioned Louis. Harry reached over for the guacamole.

 

‘You know how much of that melted cheese shit I’ll eat if it’s on the table, you’re looking out for me.’ He briefly squeezed Louis’ knee, before starting to assemble his tacos. ‘So what did she say, anyway?’ Louis winced a little at the small stab of guilt.

 

‘Well, she was a little hurt but-‘ Harry began to chuckle and Louis broke off. ‘What?’

 

‘But you were honest weren’t you?’ Harry laughed, sprinkling sweetcorn. Louis bristled a little.

 

‘What?! I was! I am. Always.’ he said indignantly.

 

‘I know you are!’ Harry said continuing to laugh and sprinkle, ‘But it’s just shocking how you use it as a shield!’ Louis rolled his eyes.

 

‘Maybe I should be more like Aiden Grimshaw?’ he said, smiling innocently, spooning chicken strips onto his wrap, ‘Say whatever to get people into bed.’ Harry’s face blanched in mock horror.

 

‘Do _not_ be like Aiden Grimshaw,’ he said with a shudder, ‘He’s _so_ disgusting.’

 

‘He only flirted with you once,’ Louis reasoned.

 

‘Yeah! At my dad’s funeral!’ Harry said in disbelief, shaking his head in wonder.

 

‘Okay so maybe he’s not the most sensitive of guys…’

 

‘Oh god…’ Harry slapped a hand over his face, ‘Anyways,’ he continued after a pause.

 

‘What?’ Harry shook his head.

 

‘Nothing.’

 

‘Oh, I know that nothing, that’s not nothing it’s something, anyways…’ Louis prompted. Harry put down his knife and fork, raising his eyebrows and giving Louis a small smile.

 

‘Anyway we both know you don’t need to lie to get anyone into bed,’ he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out Natalie’s post-it note for emphasis.

 

‘Natalie..’ Louis drawled, giving Harry a grin, ‘Hey can I have that, I don’t want to lose that.’ There was a pause, then Harry handed over the post-it with a slightly odd expression on his face. Louis quirked an eyebrow at him.

 

‘See that’s another rule,’ continued Louis when Harry simply started eating again, ‘The twenty-four hour rule. I can’t call her for another twenty-four hours, because then it appears like I’m too desperate.’ Harry gave him an incredulous look, before shaking his head and continuing to eat.

 

‘Yeah right.’

 

~~~

 

It had turned into exactly the beautiful day that Louis had predicted, and Londoners had come out in full force to enjoy it. They skirted around girls applying sun tan lotion and men who had whipped their shirts off to reveal pallid, English bodies as he and Harry ambled through the streets and squares of Bloomsbury.

 

‘It’s only 20 degrees for god’s sake!’ Louis protested as they passed a group of girls wearing flip flops. Harry chuckled at him from behind his sunglasses, giving him a good-natured shove. They settled into a comfortable silence.

 

‘You know Matt sent me another letter,’ said Harry abruptly. Louis felt a twinge of annoyance and snorted.

 

‘Asking for you to move to Scotland and marry him?’ he said, feeling uncharitable.

 

‘Some apple pie and cream?’ Harry guessed. Louis turned to him with an eyebrow raised.

 

‘ _No._ I got that last time! Anyway, didn’t you and Matt break up like a year ago?’ He kicked out rather aggressively at a small dog who was yapping around his ankles.

 

‘Nineteen months,’ Harry protested.

 

‘You’re counting?!’ Louis asked incredulously. Harry gave him a look.

 

‘No! He is! It was in the letter!’ said Harry, ruffling his hands through his hair. Louis grinned. ‘One of those lemon custard slices?’ he guessed again. Louis thought about it.

 

‘Nahh, not feeling a custard slice today.’ Harry groaned as they reached the long line extending from the bakery doors: the best bakery in the entire city in Louis and Harry’s opinion.

 

‘Errr cherry and chocolate muffin?!’ Harry exclaimed hopefully. Louis snorted.

 

‘Hazza, c’mon, you’re losing it.’

 

‘I know, I know!’ said Harry, bringing his fist to his forehead, ‘Okay okay..’

 

‘C’mon Haz, you’re disappointing me here,’

 

‘No, no, I’ve got it, I’ve got it!’ Harry cried, pointing a finger in Louis’ face. Louis teasingly backed away and Harry withdrew his hand quickly, with a bashful smile. ‘I so have it. I _so_ have it!’ He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet excitedly. ‘Summer berry smoothie cheesecake with chocolate shavings!’ Louis froze for a moment.

 

‘You’re _so good!_ ’ he said finally, as Harry clapped delightedly. ‘ _So good!’_ He slung an arm around Harry’s shoulder, almost knocking out the man behind them in the line.

 

~~~  
  
‘What do you think of this Haz?’ Louis asked, holding an ugly glass lamp up for inspection. Harry looked up from the records he was flipping through. ‘I think we should bring them this.’

 

‘ _Lou,’_ he said firmly, understanding lightening his features ‘I am _not_ going to another one of your mother’s weddings!’ Louis gave Harry a look as his stomach sank.

 

‘Thanks,’ he said quickly to the owner before following Harry into the next shop, ‘Harry, _please.’_ He said, catching hold of his friend’s arm.

 

‘Why don’t you take one of the girls you’ve been rubbing up against,’ said Harry, making his way over to a rather grim looking clothing stall, and not turning around.

 

‘No, weddings are family events!’ Louis protested trying to keep up.

 

‘Ohh,’ Harry finally turned, a smirk on his face, ‘That’s right! I forgot that rule! Leaves the wrong impression.’

 

‘It does,’ Louis nodded, before realising Harry had veered off in another direction. He jogged after him, catching up just in time to see Harry pick up what looked like a snakeskin belt.

 

‘Is this real alligator?’ he asked the woman behind the counter, who was leering at him in a way that Louis didn’t like.

 

‘Yes, baby alligator,’ she smiled, leaning over the counter. Louis could practically see the disdain in Harry’s stance as he threw the belt back down on the desk.

 

‘You should be ashamed of yourself,’ Harry said and Louis grinned ruefully, looking around for other gifts that would suit his mother’s odd taste.

 

‘Oh look!’ he exclaimed delightedly, as he spotted a large golden Labrador, tied up outside the shop. Louis had always loved dogs; recognised a kindred spirit in them or something like that. He dashed outside, kneeling down and ruffling the dog’s shaggy hair. ‘Hello there,’ he cooed, ‘You are beautiful. Aren’t you beautiful? I love you, yes, I love you. Look at that little face. I love you.’ Harry’s tattooed arm appeared out of nowhere, scratching behind the dog’s ears.

 

‘You should really try saying that to a human sometime,’ he said, grinning.

 

‘What?’ Louis asked, slightly non-plussed, cricking his neck as he whipped around to look at Harry. His friend tilted his head, giving him a look. He still smelt of the cranberry muffin he’d had back at the bakery. There was a short silence as Louis tried desperately to think of a witty comeback, before Harry sighed, getting up and moving on.

 

‘A human?’ Louis said to the dog, slightly outraged, ‘We don’t say that to a human do we? I love you.’ Trying to ignore the fact that he’d just admitted the extent of his emotional immaturity to a dog, Louis got up, searching through the busy Camden marketplace for a curly head. He spotted him ducking into the old Electric Ballroom and dashed after him. 

‘Harry, _please_ come to the wedding,’ Louis panted, finally having managed to catch up.

 

‘Nope.’ Harry picked up an old Blondie record and turned it over in his hands.

 

‘She gets married and I go!’ whined Louis, ‘I go because she’s my mum and I care deeply for the woman. I mean everyone knows she doesn’t love them, and they don’t love her. It’s pathetic.’ Harry replaced the album, sucking in a breath between his teeth and moving down to some more record stuffed boxes. ‘Breaks my heart,’ Louis continued dejectedly, ‘I don’t know what to say.’ Harry replaced another record in its box and turned properly to face Louis at last.

 

‘Okay, if someone’s making a mistake and it’s not your place to interfere, you say I’m happy you’re happy.’ He said, hands on hips.

 

‘I’m happy you’re happy,’ Louis repeated doubtfully earning an approving nod from Harry, who turned back to the records, picking a Pink Floyd album out of the pile. ‘Okay, I’ll do that.’ Louis leaned forward, and grabbed Harry’s wrist; the latter immediately froze. ‘I promise you Haz, last time I’ll ask you to come. And then I’ll find somebody else to come for the next few.’ Harry eyed him, a smile starting to play across his lips. ‘Harry, please.’

 

The boy reached over onto the next stall, pulling an old lace shawl from the crate and arranging it over his own curls like a veil, properly smiling now. Louis looked him up and down appreciatively, reaching out to pinch his cheek.

 

‘Now _that’s_ precious,’ he grinned, giving Harry the advantage of his full blown puppy dog eyes.

 

‘ _Last time,’_ Harry said with emphasis, scrunching up the lace and throwing it at Louis playfully.

 

‘Thank you!’ Louis practically yelled throwing the veil up in the air in jubilation and alarming shoppers around them, ‘Thank you.’ he repeated, cupping Harry’s cheek quickly. Harry rolled his eyes, going back to his Pink Floyd album. 


	4. The Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's been so lovely!! Asking again for anyone who lives in the US and wants to help at all to message me on my tumblr 50shadesofsassmaster !! Just so I don't completely misjudge everything in and about your country. Hope you enjoy :)

If he hadn’t known Jay, he might have thought that his taxi pulling up outside St Martin in the Fields in Trafalgar square was some giant joke and asked the taxi driver to double check the postcode. As it was, Harry Styles had been to enough Tomlinson family weddings to simply laugh a little ruefully, paying the man and stepping out into the balmy summer day. His phone buzzed in his pocket as he stood back and admired the church, a little awestruck at the sheer size of it. The text was from Louis.

**_Crypt. Now._ **

****

Uh oh. Dodging an enormous and frankly terrifying display of begonias which was being heaved into the church by as many as six struggling waiting staff, Harry set off briskly in the direction of the crypt. He smiled as he managed to squeeze into the lift, along with a dozen other harassed looking men, remembering the last time he was here, when Louis had taken him to see his favourite cellist in concert; he had proceeded to fidget through the entire first half until Harry suggested they go to McDonalds instead.

 

‘Are you staff?’ a man on his right suddenly asked him, eyeing his charcoal grey, un-tucked shirt and the tattoos on his wrist.

 

‘Er no, friend of the family’s. I’ve been asked…’

 

‘Oh _really?’_ the guy continued without letting Harry finish, eyeing him more appreciatively now. He was young and chiselled and looked like he’d emptied an entire bottle of self-tan onto his face. ‘Well, maybe you can help anyway.’ He suddenly ripped off the black jacket he had been wearing, revealing a sleeveless, lycra mock-dress-shirt, with large panels of spangled mesh running up the sides, one of which had ripped loose slightly. ‘Look,’ the man complained, grabbing Harry’s hand and running it over the tear, ‘It’s completely ruined.’ The other waiters in the lift were looking rather alarmed, edging towards the lift doors as the crypt came into view.

 

‘Errr,’ said Harry, slightly panicked, ‘I’m sorry, are you a dancer or something?’ The man shrieked with laughter.

 

‘Oh sweetheart, bless you no! I’m a groomsman!’ Harry choked dramatically as the lift came mercifully to a standstill and the waiting staff half ran out. He coughed helplessly, stumbling out of the lift and grabbing a wall to steady himself as he willed the wave of hysterical laughter bubbling up his throat to go away. The man rubbed his back helpfully.

 

‘A groomsman?!’ He asked finally, his voice leaving him in a squeak.

 

‘Yes darling!’ the groomsman said a little exasperatedly, ‘but right now I’m a groomsman down. If you think I’m walking up that aisle with ripped mesh you’ve got another thing coming.’

 

‘Ermm… I’m not sure who’s…’ started Harry, casting around for someone who looked official.

 

‘Listen,’ the groomsman had apparently decided to change tack as an arm wound itself around Harry’s waist and a body tucked into his side, ‘I hear that the groomsmen always get laid at weddings… is that true?’ Harry dissolved into another helpless choking fit.

 

‘HARRY?!’ His body almost collapsed in on itself in relief at the familiar voice and the small hand which enclosed around his wrist. ‘Where have you been you twat? I’ve been having a breakdown over here.’ Harry grinned at Louis’ obnoxious tone and mumbled an apology to the groomsman who luckily seemed to be completely absorbed in staring at Louis’ arse. He followed the tugging on his wrist, being dragged through archways and past the gift shop until they were in a relatively normal looking corridor with doors either side.

 

‘What were you doing with Jamie?’ Louis asked, sounding annoyed, ‘He’s a fucking maniac that one.’

 

‘Why are the groomsmen wearing lycra?!’ said Harry, addressing what, he thought, was the most important question. Louis grimaced.

 

‘Greg James.’

 

‘Greg James is one of the groomsmen?’ Harry laughed, ‘That’s a bit of a blast from the past.’ Louis mumbled something, not looking at Harry. ‘What?!’

 

‘Greg James is kind of the groom.’ Louis repeated slightly louder.

 

‘GREG JAMES IS THE GROOM?!’ Louis clapped his hand over Harry’s mouth, looking furious.

 

‘Keep it down! I don’t want to make it a big deal okay?’ Louis said slightly desperately. Harry eyed him for a couple of seconds, before pulling his hand away from his mouth.

 

‘Okay,’ he answered. Louis smiled, looking him up and down quickly.

 

‘You look good Haz, very dapper.’ And oh well that was just brilliant. Harry froze, trying to resist the urge to look Louis up and down in return… there was a losing game. The thing was, Louis looked shockingly good: the crisp, white shirt contrasting with his golden skin; the dark braces framing his chest and stomach, his belly-button visible through the thin material; his strong thighs almost bursting at the seams of his horrendously tight trousers. Harry willed himself to just ignore the other parts of Louis straining at that material. He just said a prayer of thanks that he wasn’t able to see his bum, because there was a good chance he might just lose all sanity and try to bite it or something.

 

‘Yeah erm,’ Harry searched desperately for something intelligent to say, ‘You look… good job.’

 

‘Good job…dressing myself?’ asked Louis, smiling a little bemusedly. Harry gave him a thumbs up and then felt himself go beet red. Brilliant.

 

‘So was Westminster Abbey fully booked or something?’ he joked, gesturing at the vaulted ceilings and hoping his abrupt subject change wasn’t too obvious.

 

‘Don’t.’ groaned Louis, rubbing his forehead and turning to lead Harry further down the corridor, ‘She almost threw a fit when we explained to her that it was only royalty who were allowed to get married there. She’s decided to make up for it by decorating it in her own special way. It’s starting to look like a tropical rainforest.’ He came to a halt outside a door. ‘She’s in here. Did you want to…’

 

‘No, it’s okay, I’ll just wait outside. Guard the door.’ Harry answered smiling. Again, he’s been to enough Tomlinson family weddings to know that it was best to allow Louis and Jay some alone time to talk. Something unreadable flickered over Louis’ face for a moment, before he was smiling again.

 

‘Yeah, probably a good idea with those groomsmen hanging around!’ He clapped Harry on the back, before slipping into the dressing room. Harry dragged a chair from the other end of the corridor, settling himself to the side of the door and trying desperately not to eavesdrop. Unfortunately for this endeavour, Jay’s voice was quite carrying and Harry was quite nosy, especially where Louis was concerned.

 

‘Now the party starts, my son is here!’ he heard Jay shriek, ‘Let me give you a kiss baby!’ Harry grinned, imagining Louis’ squashed face. He heard Stan, who happened to be one of Louis’ best friends as well as his mother’s lawyer also mumble a greeting.

 

‘Harry?’ Harry’s ears perked up at the mention of his name and he told himself that it was absolutely not okay for him to press his ear to the crack in the door.

 

‘If you don’t act on that pretty soon, you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to make him my number six!’ Jay was saying now, and Harry grinned at Louis’ loud groan.

 

‘You know what mum, I don’t think you of all people are going to be able to turn him,’ he heard Louis say, ‘Also, keep your voice down. He’s just outside the door and we are _just friends.’_ Harry was totally and completely not surprised by Louis’ comment and therefore his stomach totally and completely did not sink just a fraction.

 

‘My god you are pretty. Isn’t my son pretty Stan?’ Jay was now saying.

 

‘Yeah, he’s beautiful,’ he heard Stan say, ‘now listen they won’t accept anything less than…’ Harry rubbed his knuckles into his eyes. This, right there was the reason that he tried to avoid weddings with Louis. Everything was fine when it was just them two, but something about weddings did it. Firstly because of the minor problem of what Louis in a suit did to him, but also because it brought up questions that Harry really didn’t want to consider or address. Or rather he knew there was absolutely no point in considering or addressing them.

 

‘This is so disturbing!’ he heard Louis exclaim suddenly, followed by the unmistakeable sound of someone banging their head against the wall, and for a crazy moment he thought he might be talking to him. Telling himself firmly to settle down, Harry again resolved, with a promise that not even he believed, to stop listening.

 

‘Come on, say what you’re going to say Louis,’ he heard Jay demand loudly. There was a pause.

 

‘I’m happy if you’re happy mum.’ Harry felt his heart constrict inside his chest and was powerless to stop the large smile that spread across his face. He told himself to stop being so ridiculous as a blush rose in his cheeks.

 

‘I love you Louis,’ he heard Jay say in a soft voice. There was a long pause.

 

‘Yes! We have a deal!’ Stan’s jubilant shout broke the silence.

 

‘And just in time,’ he heard Jay cry, and a moment later, the door burst open, revealing Louis’ mother in the most horrendous red and white dress Harry had ever seen. Her face split into a wide smile as she took him in. She grabbed his face and planted a firm kiss on his lips, before snatching a piece of paper and a pen from Stan’s outstretched hands and bustling down the corridor, her lawyer in her wake.

 

‘C’mere,’ Louis said, grabbing a towel from the dressing room and starting to rub at Harry’s mouth. ‘She’s got red lipstick all over you mate.’

 

‘What’s she signing?’ Harry asked curiously, watching the receding figures. Louis eyebrows had shot so far up his forehead that they had vanished into his fringe.

 

‘Her current prenup and her last divorce papers.’ Harry’s laughter rang through the corridors as Louis dragged him towards the church.

 

~~~

 

Jay Tomlinson’s wedding was just as, if not more irreverent and entertaining than Harry had expected it to be, with the added bonus of the groomsmen’s dance number to an acoustic version of ‘I need a Hero’ during the sermon. It was at that point that Louis had almost helplessly slithered off the bench, with only Harry’s hand on his knee to anchor him. In turn, Harry had used Louis’ head as a barrier between him and the heated stares of Jamie the groomsman.

 

However, Harry reflected as he watched Jay and Greg slut-dropping on the dance floor from his vantage point at the bar, she certainly knew how to throw a party.

 

‘Cheers!’ said Louis, handing him a jagerbomb which Harry took and downed gratefully. He swung around on his barstool to find Louis looking at him, smiling slightly.

 

‘So, did you tell your mum you loved her?’ Harry asked, smiling back. Louis looked down at his lap.

 

‘I told her I cared for her,’ he muttered. Harry shook his head.

 

‘You can’t even tell your own mother? I don’t get that.’

 

‘It’s a mother-son thing,’ Louis shrugged.

 

‘Nuhuh,’ Harry said, accepting a chaser from the barman, ‘It’s a Louis Tomlinson thing.’

 

‘Well,’ Louis smiled wickedly, ‘You’re an ‘I love you’ slut.’ Harry choked with indignant laughter.

 

‘Are you kidding me?!’

 

‘You say it all the time!’ Louis reasoned, ‘to everybody.’ Harry was about to make a cutting comment about saving all his love for household animals but was distracted by the arrival of their cake.

 

‘Oh my god this looks so good,’ he said, pulling his lemon slice towards him.

 

‘That does look good actually,’ Louis was scowling between his chocolate cake and Harry’s, ‘Is that lemon? I should have ordered this.’ He reached out his fork to try and steal a slice of Harry’s. Harry attempted to fight him with his fork but it was hopeless. ‘That’s so good!’ Louis exclaimed through a mouthful, ‘I’m ordering this from now on!’

 

‘Heyy, no you won’t,’ Harry answered.

 

‘Why not?’

 

‘I need you to get the chocolate so I can have some,’ said Harry, reaching in and slicing a piece of chocolate cake before Louis could protest. Louis smiled fondly at him and his stomach flipped a little.

 

‘THERE’S MY BOY!’ Louis face blanched as he looked over Harry’s shoulder. Harry turned to see Greg James on the approach and whipped his head back to Louis who was looking a little murderous.

 

‘Here we go,’ he said darkly, plastering a smile on his face as Greg leapt on him, smothering him with a hug. ‘Hi Greg, how have you been?’ He asked, waggling his eyebrows at Harry who choked a little on his lemon cake. Greg ignored his question, reaching behind Louis and slapping him on the arse. Harry struggled not to burst out laughing at the comically shocked expression on Louis’ face.

 

‘If you’re a bad boy I’m going to spank you,’ growled Greg, punctuating his words with another swift slap. Louis was now wearing a rather fixed and dangerous smile.

 

‘Do you know what I would like to say to you? Is that…’ he broke off as Harry delivered a swift kick to his ankle, turning his scowl on his friend.

 

‘I want you to listen to me Louis,’ Greg was slurring, eyes slightly unfocused.

 

‘Yes,’ Louis said curtly, turning back to him.

 

‘If you need any moneys, or if you need any advice,’

 

‘Right.’ Louis’ voice was acerbic.

 

‘Or you’ve got boy problems I don’t think..’ Greg giggled, turning to Harry who inclined his fork and tried not to look like he had swallowed a large amount of cutlery. Judging by Louis’ grin, he hadn’t succeeded. The smile slid off his face however as Greg advanced on him, almost perching himself on Louis’ barstool. ‘I need you to think of me how you would a real father.’ Greg paused, then slowly and deliberately licked up the side of Louis’ face. It happened so quickly that Harry wasn’t very sure whether to burst out laughing at the look of abject horror on Louis’ face, or to get up and punch Greg in the face for touching his… And there it was. This was the reason weddings were a bad idea overall. Harry settled for clenching and unclenching his fists on his knees.

 

‘Look at this delicious hunk of man!’ Jay’s voice came to Harry like a lifejacket to a man overboard. Greg thankfully released Louis and curled into her side instead. ‘Hello sweetheart,’ she said in a softer voice, reaching over to give Harry a soft, motherly hug, ‘Sorry we didn’t get to chat properly earlier.’ Harry smiled back at her, offering his congratulations. ‘Drunk as the night I first met him!’ she continued, turning back to her new husband. Greg smiled blithely and swayed a little.

 

Louis let out a forced laugh, grabbing another shot off the bar, which was immediately snatched away and downed by Greg. Jay cackled.

 

‘You’re a bad influence on him!’ She shrieked at Louis who raised his eyebrows.

 

‘Me?!’

 

‘That’s your last shot tonight darling,’ she said ignoring Louis and turning back to Greg, ‘I’m stealing you away to the dancefloor!’ She tugged him away, giving Harry and Louis a parting wave. Greg’s protests of ‘Last shot?!’ echoed through the bar. Harry raised his eyebrows at Louis, laughing.  

 

‘She does know that Greg was absolutely _obsessed_ with you at uni right?’ he asked Louis who was raising his hand for another shot.

 

‘You know what? I actually neglected telling my mother about the orgy propositions from university radio,’ Louis snapped.

 

‘Why?’ snorted Harry, unable to stop himself, ‘She’d probably have encouraged it! She’s always supported you!’ Louis rolled his eyes, chuckling in spite of himself. He handed Harry another shot. ‘To mothers’ Harry said, raising his glass.

 

‘To mother’s,’ Louis repeated before downing the shot. Harry turned back to the dance floor where a slow, pretty tune was playing softly, couples coming together to slow dance.  He watched one of Louis’ cousins, about his age with her boyfriend, twirling gently. She had his head on his shoulder while he stroked her hair, bending down to whisper something in her ear that made her laugh and reach up for a kiss. Harry felt a deep ache in his chest while watching the two of them. He could feel Louis’ eyes burning into his face, but didn’t want to turn to face him and have Louis see something he shouldn’t; maybe the imprint of him and Harry gently twirling which seemed to have been burned into Harry’s retinas.

 

‘Oh god, hide me,’ Louis hissed suddenly, ducking his face down to Harry’s chest level.

 

‘What?’ asked Harry in confusion, ripped out of his thought track.

 

‘It’s my mum’s publicist,’ Louis hissed even more vehemently, glaring over Harry’s shoulder. Harry turned to see a skinny blonde girl with her hair up in a ponytail, scanning the party with the kind of focus someone might expect to see in a 100 meter sprinter.

 

‘Don’t look,’ Louis was hissing, but Harry caught a glimpse of her t-shirt and cocked his head to one side. On it was a massive, smiling picture of Louis’ face. Harry felt hysterical laughter again fighting to break through as Louis forcibly grabbed his chin and dragged his head around to face him. ‘Don’t look, she’s obsessed with me,’ he was muttering in panic.

 

‘Is that…’

 

‘Me on her t-shirt? Yes. She has developed a whole range of clothing with my face on it. She created a website called allthingslouis.co.uk.’ Louis spoke at a hundred miles an hour, his eyes still fixed over Harry’s shoulder.

 

‘Ohh, this is the psycho-blogger?’ grinned Harry, turning to look again at the girl, who was now speaking intensely with a member of the waiting staff who looked thoroughly terrified.

 

‘Okay, come on,’ Harry jumped at Louis’ voice, suddenly hot in his ear, ‘Come dance with me.’ He dragged Harry off his chair and into the crowd of people.

 

‘I think she’s quite pretty!’ Harry said, grinning at Louis and trying to hang back.

 

‘Oh stop it,’ said Louis crossly, tugging harder on Harry’s hand and pushing him in front of him.

 

‘I’m serious!’ Harry protested as he tried to turn around in the cage of Louis’ arms.

 

‘Just keep going,’ Louis hissed. When they had reached the centre of a large knot of people, Louis grabbed Harry’s hands, pulling them around his waist and resting his own on Harry’s shoulders. ‘Hide me!’ he whispered desperately, trying to manoeuvre Harry into a blocking position. Harry giggled helplessly, trying to ignore the warmth of Louis’ waist, seeping through his shirt to his hands.

 

‘Her last blog,’ Louis murmured, focusing back on Harry, ‘was a two page description of my body. See she doesn’t think I have a weak spine or tiny extremities.’ 

 

‘Who said that?’ asked Harry in outrage.

 

‘You did,’ Louis chuckled, resting his chin on Harry’s shoulder, ‘When we met.’

 

‘Well I lied,’ said Harry firmly.

 

‘What?’

 

‘I thought you were hot,’ Harry admitted. Louis pulled back to look him in the face properly, an odd look in his eyes. They were very close like this, too close, the rational part of his brain was screaming. Louis’ hand suddenly appeared, smoothing down a piece of Harry’s hair which had fallen into his eyes.

 

‘Well seeing as we’re having confession time,’ Louis said softly, a light blush colouring his cheeks, ‘I kind of wanted to kiss you that night.’ Harry’s heart leapt into his throat.

 

‘Why haven’t you since?’ he murmured, eyes, flickering down to Louis’ lips despite every instruction his brain was giving, telling them not to. Louis swallowed thickly. Harry could feel his pulse thrumming in his sides.

 

‘I quite like having you in my life,’ Louis breathed, his eyes a deep, dark blue.

 

‘Hi Louis!’ Harry felt Louis jump out of his skin, and released him as though he had been burned. The psycho-blogger was stood, way too close, her ponytail bouncing. From Louis’ look of dreadful shock, he could tell he wasn’t the only one who had forgotten all about her. ‘Have you seen the new blog?’ she asked happily.

 

‘Er no,’ Louis said, his hand clamping down on Harry’s like a vice and pulling his friend back into him, enclosing his arms around his middle, ‘We haven’t’ Harry almost snorted in laughter, but managed to contain himself, with a grin in the girl’s direction.

 

‘Who’s this?’ the girl asked with narrowed eyes, and Harry turned to Louis with a bright smile.

 

‘Well, this is my boyfriend!’ Harry raised his eyebrows at Louis who smiled back.

 

‘I didn’t know you were…’ started the girl before changing tack. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone?’ she demanded.

 

‘Because I don’t know you,’ muttered Louis, turning Harry away from the girl.

 

‘But we have a _very_ open relationship,’ said Harry cheerfully, giving the girl a smile.

 

‘Really?’ the girl asked, her face lighting up. Louis forced a laugh, glaring at Harry.

 

‘You know what, I actually wanted to talk to you about that, sweetheart,’ Louis addressed Harry through gritted teeth.

 

‘Sweetheart?’ the girl repeated in a dangerous voice.

 

‘I don’t want to be with anybody but you,’ Louis continued, staring desperately into Harry’s eyes. Harry frowned in mock sorrow.

 

‘I don’t think I’m really quite ready to make that commitment,’ he said sadly, ignoring Louis’ jab to his solar plexus, ‘You know my rules.’ Louis looked like he was either going to burst into laughter or tears, biting his tongue between his teeth. ‘I’m a bit of an emotional retard!’ Harry said, turning back to the girl who was looking thunderous.

 

‘I think I need to start a new blog now,’ she said darkly, ripping off her t-shirt to reveal only a bra underneath and stamping on it as it lay on the floor and storming through the crowd. Harry and Louis stood stunned for a couple of seconds.

 

‘That is so scary,’ said Harry in a low voice. Louis nodded, pulling Harry close again and resting his chin on his shoulder.

 

‘She’s psychotic on top of being… oh this is so not good,’ Louis moaned gently. Harry tensed, then relaxed into Louis, gripping his waist slightly more tightly and resting the side of his face in Louis’ hair. He could smell the shitty aftershave that Louis insisted on wearing to events like these, and underneath a warm, sunshiney smell that was so Louis that it hurt Harry’s heart a bit. He let his eyes fall close wondering if he would be allowed to stay like this for a little while, feeling Louis’ heart against his chest, and pretending that it was his.

 

‘Okay good, she’s gone, let’s go,’ Louis suddenly vanished from his arms, pushing himself away. Harry stood, shocked and swaying for a moment, trying to collect himself against what felt like a bathtub full of cold water that had suddenly been flung on him. He felt a small hand on his back. ‘What?’ Louis looked a little concerned as he pulled Harry back towards the bar.

 

Harry shook his head dumbly, accepting another drink, and trying to ignore how completely gone he was for his best friend. 


	5. The Super-splinter of the States

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a little bit nsfw (but not really). Hope you enjoy! I've decided to go for Alaska as the place where Harry's heading and my knowledge of Alaska is solely based on the film The Proposal so seriously, if I start making horrendously inaccurate mistakes about American culture, please please feel free to correct me! Thank you to everyone who's been nice :) xxx

The sun was setting in the city as Louis and Harry wandered along the banks of the Thames, watching the little boats chug out steam as they docked for the night. Already a blanket of drowsiness seemed to have settled over the streets, whisking away the commuters onto trains and leaving the young couples, the artists and the dreamers to roam for themselves. This was Louis’ favourite kind of London: the kind that sang him to sleep every night and gently woke him in the early morning. Louis smiled lazily as a young family with two little girls swinging on their parent’s hands passed the two of them. He waved to one of them who giggled back, hiding her face against her mother’s leg.

 

Harry was humming softly at his side, a song that Louis didn’t recognise and probably, knowing Harry, didn’t actually know. The golden light from the setting sun was diffusing through his curls as he stared vaguely at the enormous bridge that was blocking the horizon ahead of them, chewing a little on his bottom lip. In his crumpled grey shirt with the tips of swallow wings poking out and his slightly too-short trousers, Louis suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to slide his fingers through Harry’s.

 

‘Do you remember that clinical specialist in America that I told you about? The one who was developing the new splinting techniques?’ Louis jumped as Harry suddenly turned to him, eyes burning with an emotion that Louis couldn’t quite identify.

 

‘Err, it’s all I think about,’ Louis managed to shoot back a little sarcastically, trying to collect his thoughts. Harry smiled grudgingly, elbowing him in the ribs.

 

‘Stop it Louis.’ He paused, taking a deep breath: ‘I finally managed to get the lead lecturer of the MSC to sign off on my doing my research project there.’

 

‘Really?’ Louis asked, trying to sound appropriately interested.

 

Harry nodded. ‘But that would mean my going over there to actually do the research and learn the new splinting methods and everything.’ Louis was listening properly now.

 

‘When do you go?’

 

‘A couple of days.’ Louis grabbed Harry’s arm, halting him in his tracks at the turnoff to the bridge.

 

‘A couple of days? For how long?’

 

Harry resumed his lip-chewing. ‘Six weeks.’ Louis’s stomach dropped slightly. Six weeks without Harry, without seeing his best friend. The best friend he’d seen almost every day for five years.

 

‘That’s a long time.’ He forced out. Harry looked worried and Louis felt like a complete shit. This was the opportunity Harry hadn’t shut up about ever since he had found out that it was possible. This was Harry’s dream area of specialism: Louis knew from all the late-night library sessions and cramming, the nights when Harry would fall dead asleep with his face glued to an anatomical textbook. He plastered a huge smile on his face and grinned up at Harry. ‘That’s great!’

 

Harry’s face went slack and then twisted. ‘You think?’ He looked a bit sick. Clearly, thought Louis, Harry had been excited about telling him and Louis had ruined it. Fuck.

 

‘Yes,’ he said firmly, turning away from Harry and onto the bridge, running his hand along the railing and trying to stop himself betraying any of his dismay at the situation. It was a moment before he turned back to see the curly haired boy standing where he had left him, staring at the floor with an expression that looked like Louis had just killed his favourite puppy. ‘It’s a _great_ opportunity for you Haz.’ He tried to make his voice convincing and apparently it worked because a few seconds later, Harry was jogging to catch up with him on the bridge. ‘You’re going to be the super-splinter of the states.’ Harry snickered, glancing into Louis’ face and faltering a little.

 

‘It’s got a good ring to it,’ he said finally, resting his elbows on the railings and looking down the river into the distance. ‘Thank you.’ he said, a little hesitantly, fiddling with his sleeve.

 

‘Congratulations,’ said Louis firmly, not looking at his friend. There was a slightly awkward silence. ‘Six Sundays.’ Louis remarked after a while, turning to look at Harry.

 

‘That is six Sundays,’ he said in a slightly wistful voice.

 

‘What am I going to do without you?’ Louis questioned, throwing his arms over the railings dramatically. Harry snorted.

 

‘Oh I can just imagine.’

 

‘Yeahh,’ Louis started, before hoisting himself up onto the railing and wobbling precariously, gripping a suspension cord.

 

‘What are you doing?!’ He heard Harry exclaim in panic and a large hand enclosed his ankle.

 

‘I’m going to jump!’ he shouted, waving his free arm around dramatically, causing passers by to halt in their tracks, slightly stunned.

 

‘No! God! Fucking hell!’ Harry was yelling, grabbing hold of his free hand now and tugging him carefully down.

 

‘Six Sundays! How can I live without you?!’ Louis exclaimed, letting go of the cable and grabbing Harry’s other hand. The boy looked terrified.

 

‘Can you not take anything seriously?!’ Harry asked, his features set in stress.

 

‘Yeah I can,’ Louis said, letting one of Harry’s hands drop, and bending down carefully.

 

‘Get down!’ Harry was starting to laugh slightly breathlessly, rubbing his forehead with a hand. ‘Let’s get you another drink. Jesus.’

 

‘I think I’ve had enough already,’ he grinned, staggering a little and using Harry’s shoulders to steady himself. Harry firmly took his hand in his own, pulling Louis off the bridge and away from any more potential suicide spots. ‘Thanks for coming to the wedding by the way Haz,’ he said, patting his arm.

 

‘Oh it was great!’ Harry exclaimed, still laughing, ‘I can’t wait for number seven!’

 

‘I doubt you’ll have to wait long,’ Louis muttered, chuckling in spite of himself.

 

~~~

 

_‘We ask at this time that you also turn off all your electronic devices for take-off. Please leave your mobile phones off for the duration of the flight.’_

Harry sighed at his phone screen, the photo of him and Louis laughing back. He smiled slightly, before pressing the lock button firmly down and swiping his finger across the screen to turn the phone off. Six weeks. Six weeks without Louis. Harry stowed his phone in his pocket. Probably it was going to be very good for him: a bit like Tomlinson rehab. All it took for him to get over his ridiculous infatuation with his best friend was six-weeks of intense splinting. It should definitely be made a viable option for post-breakup recovery. He settled back in his seat, watching the terminal slowly getting smaller and smaller and the ache in his chest get bigger and bigger. If Louis was a drug, Harry thought he might already be going through withdrawal symptoms.

 

~~~

 

Niall groaned heavily as he collapsed on the team bench next to Louis, his blonde hair dark with sweat.

 

‘I don’t think I’m going to be able to play on bro, my knee’s fucking killing,’ Niall unstrapped his knee brace and keened a little. ‘D’you think you could get Hazza to have another look at it? I trust him way more than the student they’ve lumped me with before me operation.’ Louis shook his head grimacing.

 

‘He’s in America remember Nialler? Besides, you really need to start paying him if he’s treating your leg.’

 

‘He doesn’t mind does he?’ asked Niall, looking worried.

 

‘No, but then again, he’s too nice for his own good.’ Louis grinned, wiping his face with a towel as Zayn and Stan also hit the bench. ‘Well we still need four. Is Josh coming?’

 

Stan shook his head. ‘Nah mate, Maggie signed him up for an art walk thing.’ Louis snorted.

 

‘Art walk!? Are you serious? Tell me something, what d’you think Maggie did with his balls when she cut them off.’

 

‘Oh c’mon guys, marriage isn’t so bad,’ Niall put in, hissing slightly as he re-strapped his leg.

 

‘I agree,’ said Stan, taking a gulp of Lucozade, ‘Without marriage, there’d be no divorce and without divorce,’ he toasted Louis winking, ‘I wouldn’t have my chalet in Courchevel’ Louis winced as he remembered that Stan had just signed off on his mother’s fifth divorce, punishing his friend with a spray of deodorant to the face, leaving Stan coughing.

 

‘I’m serious bro!’ Niall said flicking Stan on the forehead, ‘You’re missing out on the best parts of life! The most important parts of life.’

 

‘This coming from the guy who’s wife won’t let him own porn,’ Stan guffawed, ‘You’ve got to wank to the underwear section of the M&S catalogue mate!’

 

‘Oi!’ Niall leaned over and tackled Stan to the pitch, rolling on the grass, ‘I thought we weren’t going to talk about that!’ Zayn slung an arm around Louis’ shoulders, running his hand through his quiff.

 

‘You can’t talk bro,’ he snorted at Stan who had managed to escape from Niall’s clutches and was now collapsed on the grass in front of them, ‘You’re single, and you’ve been single ever since… fuck what was her name?’ He turned to Louis, ‘Second year Lou, err..’ Louis racked his brains.

 

‘Gru.. Gur.. Gertrude! That’s it!’

 

‘Gertrude dumped you for him! Second year!’ Zayn pointed at Louis and then back to Stan. ‘You’ve never been the same, you haven’t been able to sleep!’

 

‘Scarred,’ said Louis for emphasis, grinning wickedly at Stan who rolled his eyes.

 

‘You have no idea how nice it is to have someone who’s going to be there for you no matter what, forever.’ Niall reiterated, heaving himself up onto the bench again.

 

‘And you don’t know how nice it is to sleep with a different girl every night,’ answered Stan, shoving himself back in between Zayn and Niall.

 

‘That’s true,’ conceded Louis.

 

‘You know what, you’ve got the best of both worlds Lou,’ Stan continued, elbowing his friend.

 

‘It’s true,’ Louis said with a smug smile, ‘I can sleep with whoever I want but I still get to hang out with Harry afterwards, it’s a perfect setup.’

 

Niall snorted. ‘You do realise you just admitted to Harry basically being your wife right?’ Louis rolled his eyes.

 

‘Yeah well,’ Zayn was saying, frowning, ‘Maybe not for Harry.’

 

‘What’s that supposed to mean,’ Louis asked, bristling.

 

‘C’mon Lou, he’s gay,’ Zayn said, getting up and offering Louis a hand. Louis took it.

 

‘Yeah well, so are you. You think I don’t know that?’

 

‘I don’t know Lou, he’s also a hopeless romantic. You think his idea of a happily ever after is coming home to you and hanging out after you’ve fucked every girl in the surrounding boroughs?’ Zayn raised an eyebrow, chucking a football at Louis who caught it. ‘Makes you think doesn’t it?’

 

Louis froze, imagining the day when Harry met someone, a real someone that he might like to settle down with. What would happen to Louis then? More importantly, what would happen to harryandlouis then? He had always kind of assumed that he and Harry would go on the way they were going forever. But now Harry wasn’t here, and for the first time, Louis truly and honestly missed him. Harry was going to find someone (how could he not?) and he wouldn’t have time for Louis anymore. Louis imagined Harry with someone else, holding hands with someone else, kissing someone else, moaning under someone else and hot anger rose like bile in his throat. How could Harry do that to him? After all these years? Louis was not going to be left behind.

 

He dropped the football to the grass, booting it halfway across the pitch. ‘Let’s play,’ he said grimly to the three other boys standing around him. They didn’t argue.

 

~~~

 

Louis felt inexplicably nervous as he looked down at Harry’s grinning face and the number beside it. It wasn’t as if it was odd that he was calling: they were best friends and Harry had been gone for three days already. In fact, he’d been quite surprised that Harry hadn’t called already. He had half convinced himself that phone service must be so bad in the small town Harry had gone to that it was impossible to call home and Harry had desperately been searching for a payphone the entire time he’d been there to call his best friend Louis.

 

In which case he probably wouldn’t pick up, which would confirm Louis’ suspicions. In fact what was the point of calling anyway? Louis just needed to put his phone in his pocket and go meet his date for lunch. Alternatively, said a voice in Louis’ head which sounded suspiciously like Zayn, he should stop being such a little bitch and get on with it.

 

He tapped the number before he could think anymore about it and brought the phone to his ear. A dialtone… well that blew the whole ‘no service’ thing out of the water. Louis counted five rings before he heard a loud rustling noise and a groan. He grinned in spite of himself.

 

‘Hello?’ Harry’s voice came out low and slightly wrecked with sleep and Louis decided that didn’t affect him at all.

 

‘Hi! How’s the weather in sunny America?’ Louis asked cheerfully.

 

‘Great,’ Harry rumbled, ‘only I’m in Alaska so not really that sunny.’

 

‘Ohh right,’ there was a pause in which Harry groaned softly again, ‘so not sunny huh?’ There was another rustling noise.

 

‘Lou, it’s three in the morning.’ Fuck. Louis knew he’s forgotten something.

 

‘Oh, sorry, so it’s kind of dark huh?’ he said with a stab at humour, fully aware of how idiotic he was being.

 

‘Yeah.’ There was another silence. Louis wondered whether Harry had fallen asleep.

 

‘So, what are you wearing?’ Louis asked with a slightly desperate laugh. Harry groaned again.

 

‘Absolutely fuck all Louis, what about you?’ he said in a husky, exasperated tone. And all of a sudden Louis was half-hard and wondering what exactly was happening to his life. He choked out a laugh that came out as more of a shriek. Luckily, Harry didn’t seem to notice. ‘Lou, was there something important?’

 

‘Yeah, you’ll never guess what happened!’ Louis said, congratulating himself on at least finding an excuse before calling, ‘They filled up the pothole!’

 

‘The pothole?’ Harry sounded confused.

 

‘Yeah, the one outside the Soho theatre! That you always fall into?’ The silence stretched excruciatingly.

 

‘Terrific.’ Harry finally mumbled, ‘Hey Lou?’

 

Louis was delighted the conversation was finally going somewhere. ‘Yeah?’

 

‘I’m gonna go to sleep now.’

 

‘Oh, okay sure,’ Louis said quickly, ‘Goodnight, call me tomorrow!’

 

‘Love you,’ mumbled Harry and then all Louis could hear was the flat noise of the dial tone. He sat for a couple of seconds, halfway between ecstatic, embarrassed, disappointed and aroused, wondering what to take care of first.

 

This, Louis reflected as he scrubbed his own cum from his shirt five minutes later, was all Harry’s fault. 


	6. A Month and a Half of Sundays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So I really enjoyed writing this chapter, it's a bit bitty in the film so I tried to make it flow more; I hope you enjoy it! Thank you to everyone who's been nice!! xxx

Looking back on the next six Sundays, Harry probably would have described Louis as a little confused. Louis on the other hand would have described himself as being in a furious whirlpool of denial. Zayn, Niall, Stan and pretty much every other person who knew Louis would have described him as being a fucking idiot.

 

On the first Sunday, Louis tried to convince himself that he didn’t need Harry in his life at all. That if the time came when Harry was too busy with… other things, Louis would be able to keep on enjoying his time on Earth as if nothing had happened whatsoever. Which is why he made the truly idiotic decision of calling up Eleanor, who was working as a legal secretary in Mayfair and taking her shopping in Camden.

 

It became apparent to Louis within the first five minutes of stepping out of the taxi that this had been a bad idea. Eleanor, in her pale grey, Ted Baker city shorts, bespoke silk blouse and five inch Louboutin’s could not have looked more out of place in Camden market than if she had grown tentacles and started oozing. To make it worse, she had seemed genuinely shocked at the idea of a second hand market, remarking coolly to Louis: ‘You do know this stuff’s all old right?’

 

To give her credit, she had tried her best, remarking on the ‘quaintness’ of the world food square and offering to take a picture of Louis next to the giant horse sculpture, but Louis hadn’t blamed her when she finally requested they go to Harrods. He had blamed her however, when five minutes later she started whining like a six year old at an elderly woman who clearly spoke no English who had accidently bumped into her on the pavement. It was then that Louis decided that even if Harry came back from the USA with three kids and a dog, he still cling onto the boy like a limpet until he let him live in his guest room.

 

On the second Sunday, Louis tried to convince himself that the fact he was still furiously wanking over the thought of his best friend every night did not in fact mean he was gay. He therefore made this interesting decision to take Natalie the library worker to the bakery which he and Harry often frequented and then try to have sex with her.

 

The date started off fairly well, although there was a minor hiccup in the fact that Natalie apparently didn’t eat baked goods and was completely confused as to why they were standing in a twenty minute line. In the end however, she had proved herself game and they had ended up making out on her sofa with Louis hanging onto her boobs for dear life, hoping they would start looking tempting at some point. He didn’t particularly see the problem: last week he would have got in, done the job, and got out again, easy peasy. Now, unfortunately, as she slowly sank down on him and started swivelling her hips languidly, giving him a smug grin (this clearly usually worked) he was having serious trouble maintaining his position. He grimaced, trying to concentrate on her milky skin, her soft belly, her green no blue eyes and fuck it was happening again.

 

He squeezed his eyes closed and flipped her over, thrusting into her and somehow managing to bring her to orgasm in record time. He gritted his teeth listening to her delighted moans and carried on. He was British. He would not be beaten. Natalie brought her legs up around his waist, pulling him into her and shoving his face into the pillow as she ran her fingernails down his back. He imagined her hands growing bigger, her torso growing longer, flatter. He could almost feel curls tickling his cheek and wide green eyes looking up at him from under long lashes, that dirty smile playing over pink lips, that low voice whispering a single word in his ear: ‘Come.’

 

Louis almost blacked out he came so suddenly, choking and groaning into the pillow. He heard a soft tinkling laugh in his ear.

 

‘That’s right,’ he heard Natalie whisper, ‘Say my name.’ He felt her teeth biting softly into his earlobe and didn’t have the heart to tell her that it had been an entirely different name that he had been moaning.

 

Later that night he called Zayn and dropped his bombshell.

 

‘I’m gay.’ There was a long pause from the other end of the line.

 

‘Well I always kind of figured…’ came Zayn’s voice from the other end sounding rather strained. Louis was outraged.

 

‘No wait! Of course I’m not sure! I’m not sure of anything anymore! You’re supposed to be my best friend! Why didn’t you tell me I was gay?! How long have you known?! Of all the pieces of information you might keep from your best friend ‘you might be gay’ is not one of them! Technically it’s entirely your fault I’m having this big gay freak out in the first place!’

 

‘Wait, you’re not in love with me are you?’

 

‘ _No._ You’re a fucking arsehole.’ Louis said sulkily.

 

‘Excellent,’ Zayn sounded relieved, ‘Right well, you seem a bit overexcited at the minute, so I’m going to call you tomorrow after you calm down and we’ll talk this through…’

 

‘Oh no no no.’ Louis said dangerously, ‘We’re sitting down and going through this right now Malik. What would you say were the first signs? How do you explain the hundreds of girls? What do you think I should do? Do you think I’m fit in a gay kind of way? What-‘

 

‘ _Louis.’_ Zayn cut in, sounding slightly breathless, ‘I really can’t right now. _I’m with someone.’_

 

Louis paused, narrowing his eyes. ‘Are they fit?’ He could practically hear Zayn rolling his eyes before the line disconnected.

 

On the third Sunday, Louis tried to convince himself that he still wasn’t gay. To assist in this endeavour, Zayn took him to Heaven, the gayest club in central London.

 

‘Okay, so it’s a bit cliché,’ Zayn had started as they entered into the pulsing main hall of the club just in time to see several well oiled, half naked men take to the stage as The Village People, but before he could finish, Louis had thrown himself into the crowd of dancing bodies. If he was going to try the gay scene, he might as well do it properly. He returned to Zayn forty-five minutes later, well on the way to verydrunk without having spent a penny. He flopped dramatically onto the bar beside Zayn and the beautiful boy he was chatting up, to Zayn’s amusement.

 

‘Look who’s taking to homosexual life like a duck to water!’ He grinned, ruffling Louis’ hair.

 

Louis shook his head despondently. ‘Still not happy,’ he complained. Zayn rolled his eyes, shoving his drink towards Louis who accepted it and took a gulp, wandering shakily back into the crowd.

 

Louis lost count of how many people he ground up against that night and how many shouted propositions in his ear. In the end, he wasn’t sure how he managed to get home verydrunk with a verynotsodrunk Nick Grimshaw on his arm and he was even less sure how he managed to give Nick a verydrunk blowjob that somehow managed to get him off, before collapsing onto his mattress and falling dead asleep.

 

What Louis was extremely sure of however, when he woke to see Nick resting his face on a hand, regarding him with a frankly disgustingly soppy smile, was that he was completely not okay with this situation. He sat bolt upright in bed, quickly calculating what the best way to get Nick out of his flat in minimum time would be.

 

‘When we were at uni together,’ Nick was saying breathily, pausing to kiss Louis’ shoulder, ‘I never had you down as a giver, I always thought you were a completely selfish arsehole.’ Louis grimaced. Maybe if he played dead for long enough, Nick would have to leave. ‘But now I see,’ continued the man in his bed, ‘You are so _generous_ Louis. I’ve never been with a guy as generous as you! You’re the kind of guy I could really see myself with for the long haul you know?’ Whether Nick was still drunk, or still basking in the afterglow of Louis’ apparently miraculous blowjob skills he wasn’t sure, but Nick’s final statement had put the absolute fear of God into Louis.

 

‘Listen Nick,’ he said briskly, getting up and starting to collect Nick’s clothes into a pile, ‘I realise that last night was pretty… good, but you see, I have these rules.’

 

‘Rules schmules,’ Nick said, grinning lazily and crawling down the bed towards Louis, ‘I think we both know that last night meant something big.’

 

‘Well,’ said Louis, trying to avoid the man’s eye, ‘I think maybe that possibly, it meant slightly more to you than it did to me?’ Louis winced at his last sentence. There was a short silence, and then the shouting started.

 

It took Louis over an hour to get Nick out of his flat, during which time he was shouted at, cried over and, in one memorable fifteen minute period, had the entire contents of his wardrobe thrown at him. When the door finally closed on Nick, still gibbering with rage, Louis collapsed onto his bed, head in hands, feeling more confused than ever. He checked his phone on the bedside table and his stomach leapt and sank simultaneously as he saw two missed calls from Harry. He pressed redial and jammed the phone to his ear hopefully, but the woman on the other end informed him, again, that the caller was out of range. He threw his phone down on the bed in frustration, wondering what he’d done in a previous life to deserve this.

 

On the fourth Sunday, Louis tried to convince himself that even if he was slightly gay, he could still have fully functional relationships that did not involve Harry. On the fourth Sunday, Louis sank to a new level. Even Harry agreed that taking Jamie the groomsman out for Mexican food was the stupidest decision in Louis’ lifetime. The date at least lasted for a mercifully short time, ending rather dramatically with Jamie accidently stabbing Louis in the hand with a steak knife while trying to wipe off the bean dip he had just spilled on Louis’ crotch. Louis had insisted that he went to A&E by himself which Jamie had thankfully agreed with after it became apparent after the third bout of fainting that he couldn’t be around the blood pouring from Louis’ injury.

 

Lou had rolled her eyes when Louis had arrived at her desk and had his hand bandaged in no time. She had also responded to his heartfelt confession that he was now gay with a ‘Well duh’ and had given him a stern look when he requested that she not tell Harry, finally agreeing with a ‘Fine, but don’t be a dickhead Louis.’ Overall, he felt his friends were being wholly unsupportive of his struggles. It also wasn’t helping that Harry’s absence now felt like a permanent ache in the middle of his chest.

 

Later that evening, after carefully researching time zones, Louis called Harry. This time there were only two rings before the phone was picked up.

 

‘Hello?’ Harry sounded more awake, but also more stressed than last time.

 

Louis suddenly felt rather timid. ‘Hey!’ There was a loud crackle at the other end of the line and then a silence for a few seconds. More crackles.

 

‘Lou- Louis? Louis is that- are you- Louis?’

 

‘Harry! Harry can you hear me?’

 

‘Louis I-   know what- don’t- Louis?’

 

‘You’re cutting out, I didn’t get any of that,’ Louis shouted down the phone, trying to control the urge to smash it against a wall.

 

‘Louis I- Stuck- I can’t- stor- can’t hear- hotel okay?’

 

‘Harry I can’t hear what you’re saying,’ Louis said more urgently, gripping the phone with white knuckles. The line gave one last feeble crackle and then went dead. Louis sighed, trying to redial without success.

 

When his phone rang again at four in the morning, he dived for it but was again, greeted by a dialtone. He buried his head in his pillow, shaking and kicking in a full blown temper tantrum, hoping his cry of ‘FUCKING ALASKA’ hadn’t woken the neighbours.

 

On the fifth Sunday, Louis gave up completely and accepted the fact that he was pretty much gone for his best friend. His dreadful mood was not improved by the fact that he could no longer wank, due to his stab wound. He wandered the city mournfully with an ice cream in hand, visiting all the places he and Harry used to go and hissing at happy couples. He went into a tea shop and ordered some chocolate cake and a lemon slice, proceeding to systematically eat both and try not to sob. He left the shop when a pretty, dark-haired businessman started making eyes at him simultaneously lamenting his loss of Harry and his loss of game.

 

Things only went downhill from there. He found himself staring moonily at an old couple whose rowboat he had dislodged from the bank, for about ten minutes like they were a scene from the fucking Notebook in Regent’s park.

 

‘Will I ever find something like that?’ he murmured out loud to himself, before realising that it was time to go home.

 

Niall found him eventually in his flat, tucked up in a duvet, with Love Actually blaring through the TV.

 

‘Might want to turn it up a bit mate,’ he said, dropping down next to Louis who immediately rested his head on Niall’s shoulder, ‘I think someone a few streets away isn’t yet aware of the Tomlinson crisis.’ Niall patted his back comfortingly.

 

‘Everything’s changing. I don’t like it.’

 

Niall ruffled his hair with a laugh. ‘It’s called growing up fella, it was going to happen sooner or later.’

 

Louis scowled. ‘Growing up is shit.’ They watched Hugh Grant shimmy through the rooms of Downing Street quietly for a while.

 

‘Why don’t you come play footie with us next Sunday. I know Sunday is usually a Harry day, but he’s not back til Tuesday right?’ Niall was grinning down at him earnestly. ‘C’mon Lou, it’ll be a laugh.’ Louis sighed.

 

‘Well if you’re twisting my arm Nialler…’

 

‘Class! Also, what the fuck happened to your hand?’ That was the good thing about Niall, Louis thought as they watched the rest of the film together: he wasn’t complicated. He would never do a thing as treacherous as run off to Alaska.

 

On the sixth Sunday, Louis decided to come clean. The Harry ache had somehow grown wings and was now banging around his head, disturbing all sorts of shit up there. He wouldn’t have minded so much, but it was completely throwing him off his game.

 

‘Fucking OW! That’s a foul Louis!’ Zayn’s disgruntled voice made the Harry bird freeze for a minute before it recommenced its banging. Zayn was getting up from the grass, smoothing down the jersey that Louis was pretty sure he’d just grabbed, flicking the ball up into his hands.

 

‘Handball,’ said Louis weakly, gesturing towards Zayn. The boy rolled his eyes.

 

‘What’s the matter with you today Lou?’ Stan asked, jogging over, followed closely by Niall and Josh.

 

‘I’m in love with Harry okay,’ Louis snapped, ‘which apparently a fair amount of people knew before me. Plus I’m gay and I also sucked off Nick Grimshaw and went out on a date with one of the groomsmen from my mum’s wedding.’ There was a short pause. ‘Wait,’ said Louis suddenly, ‘No I’m not _in love_ with Harry, I just have feelings for him, that was a heat of the moment thing. Wait fuck. Am I in love with Harry?’ Zayn was starting to chuckle, shaking his head.

 

‘Trust you to have your big gay freak-out and the realisation you’re in love with your best friend in the same month Lou.’

 

‘What’s that supposed to mean?!’ Louis said, turning on his friend, ‘Oh never mind, let’s just play.’ He grabbed the ball and started dribbling it down to midfield. He got about five paces before he froze and turned around to find all of his friends frozen in the exact same positions as before. ‘It’s just, without him everything seems kind of shit y’know? And it’s got me thinking that maybe there’s more to life than just sleeping around.’

 

Stan finally unfroze. ‘I don’t understand. I’m not following.’ Louis rolled his eyes, passing the ball to Niall.

 

‘Well I’m proud of you Lou,’ Zayn said, nudging him in the ribs as he ran to tackle Niall.

 

‘Me too!’ shouted Niall and Josh ran over to high-five him. Louis felt suddenly and deliriously happy. Now that he had admitted it, out loud, everything seemed infinitely simpler.

 

‘I’m going to tell Harry!’ he announced, ‘When he gets back I’m going to tell him that I want to be with him.’ Zayn and Niall were beaming at him. ‘Nothing serious about like marriage or anything, just to be together.’

 

Zayn snorted, booting the ball up to the penalty line. ‘That’s super romantic Lou.’ 


	7. High School Musical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was also SO much fun to write. Louis having a breakdown is my absolute favourite kind of Louis. Hope you enjoy! If there's anything inaccurate about the Alaska stuff please let me know! Thank you to everyone who's been nice :) xxx

Louis felt pretty satisfied that he’d managed to restrain himself to only playing Harry’s answerphone message eight times before Zayn arrived. His friend had dashed through the door, sopping wet and clearly very panicky.

 

‘I came as soon as I could Lou,’ he panted, following Louis into the bedroom, ‘What’s the emergency?!’ He looked around with wide eyes as if expecting a raging fire.

 

Louis groaned, flopping down on the bed. ‘I haven’t got a thing to wear!’ There was a short pause in which Zayn’s face twisted into something sort of ugly, before Louis had a mouthful of damp quiff and was being hit from every angle possible.

 

‘You-dragged-me-out-for-this?!’ Zayn punctuated his words with slaps to Louis’ person. ‘I was on a fucking date Lou!’

 

‘Ow, get off you bellend,’ Louis howled, scampering away, ‘Why the fuck are you so wet if you were on a date?’ Zayn collapsed backwards onto his pillow and Louis refrained from asking him to put a towel down, sensing it probably wasn’t the right time.

 

‘He took me swimming,’ Zayn said darkly after a few seconds. Louis snorted with laughter, turning back to his closet and starting to rifle through t-shirts.

 

‘Why the hell would anyone ever take you swimming? Why would anyone take anyone swimming on a date?!’ He heard Zayn sigh.

 

‘It was awful. I just paddled the whole time at the shallow end. Told him I was too tired to swim.’

 

‘So what? You were both just standing awkwardly in the shallow end?’ Louis asked, turning to glance at his friend, who was staring mournfully at the ceiling.

 

‘Nope,’ Zayn popped the p, ‘He went off to do lengths. Fucking lengths Lou! While I stood in the shallow end, surrounded by eight year olds.’

 

‘So really,’ Louis said slowly, ‘I did you a favour getting out of it.’

 

Zayn turned to glare at him. ‘I just really liked this one y’know? Could see it going somewhere? Clearly he doesn’t give a shit.’ Louis dropped the shirt he was holding and pounced on Zayn, kissing him firmly on the cheek.

 

‘You’ll find someone Zayner. Out of all of us, you will definitely find someone.’

 

‘Yeah, whatever,’ Zayn mumbled into his neck, ‘we don’t all have a Harry we can call on at any moment.’ Louis glanced at his phone and yelped with a mixture of excitement and nerves, resuming his feverish dissection of his wardrobe.

 

‘Speaking of Harry, I’m supposed to be meeting him in an hour. Here,’ he chucked his phone at Zayn, ‘Call voicemail, stick it on speaker.’

 

‘Are you telling him tonight?’ Zayn asked, an amused smile on his face as he pressed buttons on Louis’ phone.

 

‘No time like the present eh?’ Louis said, pulling out his underwear drawers in the hunt of socks, before realising he didn’t own a pair of socks.

 

 _‘Hey Lou! I’m back!’_ Harry’s tinny voice rung out of his phone and Louis froze, a smile spreading across his face. _‘I can’t wait to see you. I don’t care what you’re doing tonight, cancel it. We’re going to dinner. Meet me at that new trendy place, next to the small Indian place that we hated, that used to be the Italian we loved. Meet me there, eight o’clock. I have so much to tell you!’_

 

Louis swivelled on his knees to face Zayn. ‘What do you think?’ he asked him apprehensively.

 

‘I think you’re going to meet your boy in an hour, so you need to get your arse into some clothes,’ Zayn grinned and Louis bit his lip happily. ‘You two are disgustingly in love by the way,’ Zayn continued, stretching out on Louis’ bed and rolling his eyes. Louis grinned.

 

The grin had well and truly left his face however, when fifteen minutes later, he had still failed to decide on an outfit.

 

‘Y’know, if I was in a romantic comedy right now, this would all be a montage. I’d find a shirt the perfect blue to match my eyes and we’d be done with this by now!’ Louis complained as he threw yet another striped t-shirt onto the floor.

 

‘Just wear whatever Lou! Harry’s not going to give a shit either way!’ Louis shot Zayn a withering look before turning back to his clothes.

 

‘What about some braces?’ he tried, flicking a red pair in his friend’s direction.

 

Zayn grimaced. ‘Bit 2011 mate.’

 

‘Ugh fine! Why don’t I just wear fucking this then?!’ Louis shouted, pulling out a hideous ripped shirt with a pair of palm-trees printed on it in frustration.

 

‘Actually,’ Zayn remarked, sitting up, ‘Harry might like that..’

 

Which is why Louis found himself half an hour later stood at his front door, reluctantly dressed in the ugly Hawaiian shirt.

 

‘Are you sure about this?’ he asked Zayn, who nodded proudly. ‘Right okay, so I should- No wait! I almost forgot!’ He gestured at the slim envelope on the table by Zayn’s side. ‘Pass me that would you?’ Zayn reached over and grabbed it, pulling the record out of its sleeve and peering at the name.

 

‘Pink Floyd?’ He raised an eyebrow, flicking the pink bow that Louis had placed on it in a moment of impulse.

 

‘Harry’s favourite,’ Louis explained rather sheepishly. Zayn smiled proudly, handing him the envelope and ruffling Louis’ hair.

 

‘You adorable bastard!’

 

‘Fuck off,’ Louis said, ducking away and fixing his quiff, letting himself out of the flat.

 

‘I’ll make sure it’s nice and clean so you and Harry can come mess it up again!’ he heard Zayn shout after him.

 

‘Fuck off!’ Louis repeated, not turning round.

 

~~~

 

The bar had the hopeful feel of a new business, with long lines of people who looked like they were straight out of a Made in Chelsea episode. Louis thanked god that he was fairly well known in London socialite circles as he skipped to the front of the queue, exchanging a tenner and a high-five with the bouncer before squeezing into the main bar, Harry’s record clutched to his chest.

 

‘He’s downstairs babe!’ he heard a familiar voice shout and turned to see an old girlfriend (Perrie he thought her name was) sitting with three other girls at a booth. He jogged over, giving her a quick peck on the cheek as a thank you, before heading towards the twisted iron staircase.

 

‘Stay and chat for a while?’ Perrie called after him, pouting.

 

‘Can’t babe! Sorry! Got a date with destiny!’ She pulled a face and he laughed, clattering down the steps.

 

Downstairs, the venue became more ambient, all high vaulted brick ceilings and contemporary art. One in particular sheet of metal with a native American face shot, rather poorly, into it with what looked like bullet holes made Louis grimace a little. He wondered why they chose that particular piece to hang in full view behind the bar. His eyes slid down and his heart leapt into his throat and holy shit he was completely and utterly fucked. Because there was Harry, and all Louis could think of was how the hell had he never noticed how _gorgeous_ he was before. He was squeezed into sinfully tight jeans, with a slight tan like Louis didn’t even know that you _could_ get slight tans in Alaska and his hair was a complete mess and his nose was slightly sunburnt but his lips were stretching into a grin as he noticed Louis and Louis wondered if it would be okay if he just kissed him all night. He tried to hold back a burst of hysterical laughter as he noticed that Harry was wearing the exact same hideous shirt as him and then he cringed internally because were they going to be one of those kind of couples? But then he wasn’t sure if he’d mind too much if they were one of those couples because Harry was launching himself off the barstool towards him and he hadn’t realised until now how much he missed Harry’s smell even and soon they would be hugging and laughing about shirts and they would by harryandlouis again. Harryandlouis.

 

It happened as if in slow motion. Suddenly, Harry was turning again and reaching behind him, hand outstretched to something or someone. And then out of Louis’ worst nightmares rose a massive blonde hulk of a man dressed in a plaid shirt that strained against his muscles and he was taller than Louis and tanner than Louis and had the face of one of those all-american football players that you saw in bad high-school movies and he was holding Harry’s hand. _He was holding Harry’s fucking hand._ Louis faltered, feeling the smile droop off his face because the hulk was smiling happily at Louis, like he had the audacity to fucking smile at him and then looking back at Harry with the most goopy, adoring expression Louis had ever seen. And worst of all, there was the goopy, adoring expression reflected right back on Harry’s face and he wasn’t looking at Louis. He was looking at the hulk. And so Louis automatically knew that he had to get out of the bar, like he had to get out right now. Louis turned a little, taking a step back, and then there was an almighty crash and everything was pain and he was lying on the ground and wow that was definitely the subtle exit he was going for.

 

Both he and whatever he had crashed into howled in pain for a few seconds and Louis could feel broken glass crunching under his back as he rolled off what he now identified as a waiter.

 

‘Are you alright?!’ he exclaimed to the man lying, moaning slightly on the floor as people dashed over, including Harry and the hulk who he could see advancing on his left hand side.

 

‘I think I broke a rib!’ the waiter was wheezing, and then there were strong hands on his waist, and he could smell Harry as he was lifted and righted to two feet again. And Louis really knew he shouldn’t be turned on right now, but the ease with which Harry lifted him. Fuck.

 

‘Are you okay?!’ Harry was asking him, gripping his shoulders with panicked hands and he must know that he wasn’t really helping the situation as he stared into his face with wide green eyes.

 

‘Yeah, I-‘ Louis started before he was interrupted by a waitress, holding out Harry’s present and saying: ‘I’m so sorry sir, here’s you record.’ and did she not understand that nothing was going to plan and Louis really didn’t fucking need this right now, especially with the hulk grinning good-naturedly at him from beyond Harry’s shoulder. And now Harry was taking the record and flipping it over to read, looking slightly stunned and god fucking dammit why didn’t that fall kill Louis because it would be a lot less painful than this.

 

‘You-‘ Harry started, gazing down at the record, ‘You brought this for-‘ Louis snatched the envelope out of his hands, shoving it in the direction of the waiter.

 

‘No this is your record,’ he said, giving the waiter a meaningful look, ‘this is yours.’

 

‘I didn’t have a record!’ shouted the waiter in confusion and Jesus Christ what was up with the waiting staff at this bar?!

 

‘It’s so great to see you Harry!’ he yelled over the waiter’s protests, pulling Harry into a hug that made his heart skip, even through his growing confusion.

 

‘I’ve missed you so much Lou,’ Harry grinned, taking his arm and pulling him towards the blonde hulk who was still grinning like an idiot, probably at Louis’ misfortune. ‘There’s someone I want you to meet!’

 

‘Fantastic!’ Louis cried, trying to make it look like his entire sanity wasn’t crumbling down around him.

 

Louis sometimes wondered how on earth he even managed to stay upright that night, as he drank his way through about fifty glasses of straight vodka. Harryandlouis had now morphed into Harryandthehulk… and Louis and he watched the two of them coo over each other and shuffle up to the other in the little romantic booth which Harry had chosen: one which was clearly NOT big enough for three people. Louis’ elbow kept bumping accidently into the hulk’s massive bicep as he cut his fishcakes. Not that he could feel it though, Louis thought viciously, he was probably so pumped up on steroids.

 

‘So I’m in my tiny hire car, in a huge thunderstorm, you should see the storms over there Lou, and I’m surrounded by a herd of Moose!’ Harry was saying earnestly.

 

‘Or meese!’ the hulk put in and the two of them descended into peals of laughter. Great. A fucking comedian too.

 

‘Sorry!’ Harry managed to choke eventually, wiping actual tears out of his eyes, ‘Private joke, private joke!’ Louis ground out a laugh which sounded a bit like a lawn mower starting and shoved a massive piece of fish cake into his mouth. ‘So I’m on this road in the middle of nowhere, no streets signs!’ Harry continued, ‘and it’s getting dark.’ Louis raised his eyebrows.

 

‘I think he thought he was in some bad Bigfoot movie,’ Hulk guffawed, throwing a huge arm around Harry’s shoulder, ‘’Stay outta the woods at night!’’ Louis took an enormous gulp of vodka. So bloody American. Harry seemed to find it charming though, tucking himself into the Hulk’s armpit and giggling.

 

‘So anyway!’ Harry continued, addressing his story to the Hulk now, ‘All of a sudden, out of nowhere, Troy rides up on this massive motorbike,’ and for fuck’s sake the guy’s called Troy. It’s like being in fucking High School Musical, ‘Can you believe it?! A motorbike! And asks if I need any help!’

 

‘Oh wow!’ Louis exclaimed, hoping he didn’t sound quite as sarcastic as he thought he did.

 

‘You needed a hand! What was I supposed to do eh Lewis?’ the Hulk laughed, almost knocking Louis out the booth with his friendly punch.

 

‘Louis,’ Louis whispered in correction. The Hulk wasn’t listening.

 

‘Plus, you were really hot!’ Harry started giggling again and Louis took another gulp of vodka, motioning for another.

 

‘It was one of those great American romance stories, with the mountains and the storm and the dark mysterious stranger!’ Harry exclaimed, grabbing the Hulk’s hand. Louis longed to ask two questions at that point: what the hell kind of romance stories had Harry been reading, and how in god’s name could the Hulk be described as dark and mysterious. But then the Hulk leaned over to kiss Harry and Louis was a bit preoccupied trying not to jab his knife into the guy’s throat.

 

‘So anyway,’ Harry carried on a little flustered, ‘He drives me to this little diner where he proceeds to buy me the most awful dinner I’ve ever had.’

 

‘It was pretty bad,’ cut in the Hulk, and Louis felt like he should present him with a medal for the most useless comment ever. Harry chuckled again and Louis gritted his teeth because that’s his fucking chuckle and High School bloody Musical can’t have it.

 

‘So anyway,’ Harry turned to face him again and Louis smiled stiffly, ‘Then we spent the next two weeks travelling around a bit, getting to know each other, going on walks, he taught me how to shoot!’ Louis looked up at that because he honestly couldn’t imagine Harry with a gun in his hand and wasn’t sure he wanted to. He glared at the Hulk who was too busy making eyes at Harry to notice.

 

‘It was perfect,’ they both sighed, simultaneously into each others faces and Louis fought the urge to throw up his fishcakes all over the Hulk’s hands. He took another large gulp of vodka and when he looked back up the Hulk appeared to be sucking Harry’s mouth clean off his head. Louis felt a little queasy as he ate a solitary stalk of watercress, trying to ignore the Hulk’s rhythmic shoulder movements knocking into him.

 

‘So when it was time for Harry to leave I just couldn’t let him go!’ The Hulk finally turned back to Louis, grinning. Louis nodded understandingly. ‘So I got down on one knee and-‘

 

‘And he proposed and I accepted!’ Harry cried happily. ‘We’re engaged!’ The word stretched Harry’s mouth into a wide, pink smile and fuck. Well if Louis had wanted to punch the grinning, blonde hulk holding Harry’s leg possessively before, it was nothing to how he felt now. Unfortunately, he was slightly preoccupied with the mini heart attack he was having as his stomach fell through his shoes.

 

‘Engaged?!’ he shrieked in a voice so high, that he’s pretty sure only dogs could hear him. The Hulk certainly paid him no mind as he slowly rubbed up Harry’s thigh.

 

‘Yes! So the wedding’s coming together very quickly.’ Harry continued, reaching out to take Louis’ hand where it’d fallen slack against his knife. Louis quickly took another two gulps of vodka.

 

‘It sounds it,’ he coughed through the burn, starting to feel slightly light-headed.

 

‘We’re going to get married in Alaska in Troy’s parents’ home,’ Louis took another gulp of vodka, signalling a little frenziedly for another.

 

‘It’s going to be small,’ cut in the Hulk and Louis wanted to bite him, ‘We can’t expect many people to make the trip overseas in just two weeks.’ Louis coughed and spluttered into his glass, his eyes tearing up.

 

‘A _fortnight?!’_ he managed to squeak, gripping onto the table for support.

 

‘Right,’ nodded the Hulk with a worried smile, AS IF LOUIS’ THE CRAZY ONE.

 

‘ _Two weeks,’_ repeated Louis, looking to Harry now for some indication that this is all a joke and Troy is just an elaborate cyborg Harry brought home from America to confuse Louis.

 

‘I know! It’s crazy isn’t it?!’ said Harry sounding utterly delighted with himself.

 

‘Have you ever been to Alaska Lewis?’ the Hulk asked kindly.

 

‘Louis,’ Louis repeated through gritted teeth, ‘and no, I haven’t.’

 

‘You should see the little barn where the service will take place.’ The Hulk grinned like a maniac.

 

‘You know, Troy’s parents were married in the barn too!’ Harry said happily, and Louis turned to him incredulously wondering when everyone had gone nuts and why he had failed to get the memo.

 

‘Yeah, it’s right next to the brewery,’ the Hulk said grinning.

 

‘Brewery?’ Louis weakly took another gulp of vodka.

 

‘Troy’s family owns the largest brewery in the Northern United States and Canada!’ Harry said happily. Another gulp. ‘Louis, look,’ Harry squeezed his hand tighter, looking hopeful, ‘When you find a girl and get married, I expect to be your best man, sooo,’ Harry looked like he was struggling not to laugh, ‘Will you be my Maid of Honour?’ Louis dropped his thankfully empty glass on the table, laughing in a way that sounded slightly frightening even to him.

 

‘Maid of honour?!’ he asked, trying to stop the insane giggles leaking out of his mouth. He needed to get out of here. Right now. He pushed his chair back, standing up and suddenly everything was pain again.

 

‘FUCK!’ he yelled as he was flipped over his chair by the same waiter, smashing to the ground as plates and glasses smashed around them. He wondered if this time, he really could play dead until this whole nightmare was over. 


	8. Motherfucking Shitballs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realise this chapter's a bit lame and short, but it had to be in here somewhere! Thank you to everyone who's been so nice, I hope you enjoy :) xxx

It was only when Louis had not moved from his position (face-down on Zayn’s sofa and moaning softly) for two hours that Zayn and Niall started to suspect something had gone seriously wrong with the big Harry confession. Zayn accepted that the first clue was probably when Louis had burst dramatically into what was originally planned to be just his and Niall’s film marathon on Wednesday morning: a morning in which Louis had planned to be having blissful, honeymoon-period sex with his best friend/love of his life. But Louis had always been prone to dramatics and so, Zayn assumed, Harry had had to do something (because apparently some people worked on Wednesdays?) and Louis had been bored. The gentle moaning had been fine for the last hour and a half of Avengers 2, but now they had moved onto Titanic, a love story that everyone should experience once a lifetime according to Niall, the incessant noise was starting to become a little irritating. It was hard enough, reflected Zayn, to suffer through the apparently endless series of diving shots and enthusiastic Americans in baseball caps (especially since he had been promised Leonardo Di Caprio) without Louis being obnoxious in the background.

 

‘Alright,’ he said eventually, as an old woman described her sexual experiences to more baseball caps. He flicked mute on the TV and turned to Louis. ‘Out with it Lou, what’s going on? Where’s Harry?’ The moaning thankfully stopped, only to be replaced with Louis chuntering into a cushion about Hulks and High School Musical.

 

Niall shot him a concerned look. ‘Lou… what?!’ At this, Louis sat up and glared at the two of them, before his face crumpled and he collapsed back onto the sofa.

 

‘He’s getting married,’ he wailed piteously. Niall and Zayn exchanged another look.

 

‘Who’s getting married Lou?’ Zayn asked patiently.

 

‘Fucking Harry, who do you think!? To some moronic blonde guy I don’t know and it’s happening in two fucking weeks!’

 

‘No, I don’t think so Louis,’ Niall started as if he feared for Louis’ sanity: a sentiment Zayn could sympathise completely with at this moment, ‘Maybe you’ve misunderstood the situation?’

 

‘Well unless ‘we’re engaged and the ceremony’s in two weeks’ has suddenly acquired a completely different meaning,’ Louis spat at the blonde haired boy who recoiled, ‘I think I understood the situation pretty fucking well thank you Niall.’

 

‘Hey hey hey,’ Zayn interrupted squeezing Niall’s knee reassuringly, ‘How about I get us all a cup of tea and we talk this through properly yeah?’

 

Zayn had never really seen Louis cry properly before, but after that day he was unsure whether he ever wanted to see _anyone_ cry ever again. It took them the entire Titanic film, which Niall assured him was an achievement in itself, to get the whole story out of Louis and, more importantly, to believe it. Zayn had always assumed that Harry was absolutely smitten with Louis: whenever they had met, it was like there was a sort of string holding the two of them together, as stupidly cliché as Zayn realised that sounded. Harry especially, always looked uncomfortable if he wasn’t near to, or touching Louis. Plus, Harry was literally the only person who, Zayn assumed, would be able to handle Louis for indefinite amounts of time. Co-dependency wasn’t really the right word, it was more of general, and rather simple feeling of rightness which exuded from them two when they were together. Which is what made the present situation feel even more unnatural.

 

‘I also did something bad,’ moaned Louis after his sobs died back a little. Niall rubbed Louis’ ankles from his position on the other end of the sofa.

 

‘Did you tell him?’ Zayn asked grimacing, stroking Louis hair back from his forehead.

 

‘No, I’m not that stupid,’ Louis huffed a laugh, then picked himself up a little from Zayn’s lap, stripping off the hoodie he was wearing to reveal a t-shirt, and a large bandage on his wrist.

 

‘No,’ moaned Niall softly, gathering Louis up into a hug, ‘No Lou, don’t hurt yourself, please don’t hurt yourself.

 

‘I didn’t,’ Louis scoffed, patting Niall on the back before going to undo the bandage. Zayn put an arm out to stop him. He recognised that kind of bandage. He’d had bandages similar to that all up and down his arms, chest and back.

 

‘What. Did. You. Do?’ He asked Louis in horror. Louis grinned sheepishly.

 

‘I may have got a little bit drunk last night, and I might have got a tattoo of the first words Harry said to me..’ He started to peel the bandage off again. Zayn facepalmed.

 

‘Jesus Lou, is it something good at least?’

 

‘Well,’ Louis grimaced, pulling back the bandage completely to reveal the red, raised black words on the inside of his wrist, artfully italicised.

 

**_Motherfucking Shitballs_ **

****

There was a short silence and then Niall fell off the sofa, screaming with mirth, gripping onto his own sides.

 

‘Oh my fucking god,’ Zayn whispered, pulling the wrist towards him and examining it closely. ‘Lou, this is…’

 

‘I knoww,’ groaned his friend, slapping the bandage back down and wincing in pain. ‘I’m officially the most idiotic person in history.’

 

‘Yep,’ Zayn, couldn’t help joining in with Niall’s laughter, ‘You’re pretty much a shoe-in for the title!’

 

‘And now he wants me to be his fucking Maid of Honour and how the fucking hell is this even going to work?! And I’ll be hiding this monster from him now too.’ Zayn couldn’t contain his laughter now.

 

‘You know, most bridesmaid dresses don’t have long sleeves Lou,’ cried Niall from the floor, ‘You’re going to have to wear a bangle or something!’ He collapsed back into giggles.

 

‘That’s right,’ Louis motioned to his friends, hiding his face in the cushion, ‘Get it all out.’

 

‘So what did you say?’ asked Zayn breathlessly, ‘Did you say yes?’

 

Louis shook his head: ‘I didn’t know what to say, I told him I needed to think about it.’

 

‘You need to think about whether or not you can get a flower garland for your arm at this short notice!’ cackled Niall from the floor.

 

‘Leave me alone!’ Louis cried burying his head yet further into the cushion.

 

‘Okay, okay,’ Zayn said, biting his lip, ‘Let me think about this ok. So Harry’s really into this guy?’ Louis nodded.

 

‘You should have seen him, staring at him all moony like he was Captain America or some shit.’

 

Zayn inhaled sharply through his teeth, reaching forward to massage Louis’ shoulders. ‘Ohh that’s not good bro, I think you might have to do this. I think you have to be the Maid of Honour.’ Louis’ head shot up and he stared at him in shock. Niall appeared from the floor, pulling himself back up onto the sofa.

 

‘He’s right man,’ Niall nodded seriously, ‘Think about it, this would give you an excuse to be around Harry all the time.’

 

‘Exactly,’ agreed Zayn, ‘Helping him out, being the man on the inside. You could use that time, to point out to Harry that this is crazy, and he doesn’t really know the guy at all!’

 

Louis stared between them like they were both crazy. ‘No.’ he said indignantly when it became clear that they were not joking, ‘No, I’m not going to do that. No way.’

 

‘I don’t know what your other options are, man,’ Niall said shaking his head.

 

‘You’ve got a better chance of stopping the wedding from the inside than from another continent,’ pointed out Zayn reasonably. Louis chewed on his lip uncertainly. ‘And they say you can shorten the bridesmaids dress and wear it again if you like,’ Zayn finished with a deadpan expression, causing an explosion of laughter from Niall and a jab to the ribs from Louis’ elbow.

 

‘C’mon bro,’ said Niall through chuckles, clapping Louis on the back, ‘If you’re really serious about getting Harry away from this guy, you’re going to have to do whatever it takes.’ He paused for emphasis. ‘ _Whatever.’_  Louis stared at the TV for a long while, where Kate Winslet was spread across a piece of wood while Leonardo clasped her hands. He played with the bandage on his wrist.

 

‘I’m going to do it.’ He said finally, decisively, and Niall cheered exuberantly, getting up to dance around in his socks.

 

‘And we’ll be there with you, man,’ Zayn grinned, grabbing Louis’ head and ruffling his hair, ‘Every step of the way.’

 


	9. The Talented Mr Grimshaw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hello this is the next chapter which was again h i l a r i o u s to write. I hope everyone enjoys it. Small warning, there's quite a lot of swearing in this one (it comes hand in hand with Louis' breakdown). Thank you so much to everyone who's been so lovely, your comments and kudos mean the world to me! xxx

Louis figured that if he was going to hell, he might as well do it thoroughly and so, with a mildly disturbing amount of enthusiastic encouragement from Niall, he whacked out the ass-pants. They were the stuff of legend: a slightly elasticated pair of acid-washed jeans which clung to his best asset as if, according to Niall, they had been tailored by the angels. The ass-pants had never failed and though Louis felt a little bit guilty for employing such dirty tactics against High School Musical, he couldn’t particularly bring himself to care. Especially when he saw the look on Harry’s face when he walked into the hotel.

 

Taking his new position as the maid of honour very seriously, Louis had spent an inordinate amount of money for him, Harry and the other three ‘bridesmaids’ to have high tea in Fortnum and Mason; enough money that when the tuxedoed waiters caught sight of the fact that he was wearing jeans, they didn’t throw him out of a second story window as they would have done with any other member of the public, but meekly led him to the private booth he had hired.

 

‘Wow Lou,’ Harry had rumbled in his ear after he had finished gawking and choking at Louis’ bum, ‘This is gorgeous, you didn’t have to do this.’

 

‘Uh uh uh,’ Louis tutted, winding an arm easily around Harry’s dress-shirted waist, ‘Nothing is too good for my Hazza.’ Harry had beamed down at him at that and fuck, Louis really was completely gone. He could have written a sonnet about how the soft sunlight hit Harry’s dimples.

 

‘By the way,’ Harry said, leaning closer and Louis had to suppress a shiver at the warm breath that ghosted his ear, ‘Nice arse.’ He smiled Louis’ favourite filthy little grin and reached down to pat his bum softly. Louis squeaked and recoiled, earning a dark laugh from Harry as the waiter pulled out two elegant chairs for them to sit down. Right. So the ass-pants hadn’t particularly succeeded in their mission of destabilising Harry, although, Louis had to admit, they had done a pretty good job of destabilising _him._ He thought that maybe Harry had seen through his plan as soon as he set eyes on him, and yet, now they were sitting down, Harry’s face was a picture of innocence again, smiling a blithe, disarming smile. Louis pulled down the sleeves of his jumper firmly to make absolutely sure that his tattoo wasn’t visible. So _so_ gone.

 

Louis drank deeply from the glass of iced water which had been placed in front of him and answered decidedly too late: ‘Hoping to get a free Battenberg or something.’ Harry snorted into his own glass, a light blush colouring his cheeks, and yeah, maybe the ass-pants would work given some time. ‘You look great by the way,’ Louis blurted out, his eyes raking up Harry’s tight dress-trousers and pale green shirt, ‘Very lord of the dance.’ He could hear Zayn screaming FOR FUCK’S SAKE WHAT ARE YOU DOING in his head, and was rather inclined to agree with him. Honestly, over ten years of flirting practice had led to this: fucking Irish dancing analogies. Luckily, Harry seemed to take it as a joke and flipped him off between giggles and slurping a drip of water from the side of his glass. And really, reflected Louis feeling heat twist in his stomach, Harry wasn’t playing fair. Not fair at all.

 

‘Argh I’m just so excited Lou!’ Harry exclaimed eventually, licking his lips and grinning again. Right. The wedding. Louis had forgotten for a second.

 

‘Me too!’ he replied in a voice that was much too cheerleader for his liking. He repressed the urge to add a ‘yay!’

 

‘Okay, so let me tell you who the other ‘bridesmaids’’ Harry made inverted commas with his fingers, ‘are going to be.’ His tone had become businesslike and Louis half expected him to pull a pair of secretary glasses from somewhere on his person.

 

‘Okay.’

 

‘Okay, so Liam.’ Louis had been expecting it. He had met the softly-spoken radiologist numerous times when out with Harry and they got on well, if Liam was a little square for Louis’ liking. He had made it his personal mission to get him wasted at the hospital Christmas party, a mission which ended with a raucous karaoke duet to Adele’s ‘Someone like you’. There was hope for the boy yet.

 

‘Good, I like Liam!’

 

Harry returned his grin. ‘I think he thinks you’re a bit mad, but he absolutely adores you anyway.’

 

Louis laughed. ‘That’s good then!’

 

‘And then my friend Caroline from hospital radio,’ Harry continued, checking off on his fingers.

 

‘Caroline? I don’t know Caroline do I?’

 

‘I think you might have met her a couple of times in passing, but not properly,’ frowned Harry, ‘Anyway, she’s the best.’

 

‘Okay.’ There was a pause in which Harry chewed on his lip, eyeing Louis apprehensively. Louis raised an expectant eyebrow and Harry looked a little terrified.

 

‘And Nick.’ Louis’ stomach bottomed out as the words left Harry’s lips. Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit. He made a fervent prayer to the gods that the rules of reality could just bend for a short moment allowing Niall and Zayn to appear, angel and devil-like on his two shoulders to tell him how the _hell_ he was going to get out of this one. ‘I’m sorry Lou,’ Harry was saying as if he had rehearsed this moment, ‘I know you weren’t his biggest fan from university, with the whole Greg and radio orgy thing, but I had to, he’s my best friend!’ Louis shot him a dangerous look. ‘Second best friend.’ Harry amended quickly.

 

‘But he hates me!’ Louis burst out without thinking.

 

Harry gave him an odd look. ‘No he doesn’t, if anything he likes you slightly too much.’ Louis grimaced. How the fuck was he supposed to tell Harry that he had a kinda sorta one night stand with one of his ‘bridesmaids’ when he hadn’t even built up the courage to tell him he was gay yet?! And more importantly, how was ‘I gave this guy I hate a drunken blowjob about a month ago’ going to sound when he was trying to make Harry see that he was serious about _their_ relationship and he was no longer an emotionless arsehole?

 

‘Oh god.’ The moan escaped Louis’ mouth without his permission and Harry looked upset.

 

‘Look, he might be a bit snarky, but sometimes our hearts don’t match our mouths right?’ He sounded upset too. Louis sighed. Now wasn’t the right time. He’d leave this ball in Grimshaw’s court and pray that he had the consideration not to bring up their one night in the middle of finger sandwiches at Fortnum and Mason’s. He just wanted the uncomfortable look to be gone from Harry’s face.

 

‘You should put that in the vows,’ he joked weakly and Harry’s answering smile was more grateful than amused. And oh god, Louis hoped Nick didn’t bring it up because he was completely and utterly soso gone.

 

‘Also, I think he was expecting to be best man actually, so now he’s really going to hate you,’ murmured Harry before raising his hand in a wave to something over Louis’ shoulder. ‘Here they come now!’ He smiled quickly at Louis and leaned forward to squeeze his hand.

 

‘Well, as your maid of honour I promise to keep the peace,’ Louis assured him before standing up and turning with a cheerful smile.

 

He was confronted with probably the most terrifying sight of his young life. The ‘bridesmaids’ stood in a row of three at the entrance to the lift, like some proper Charlie’s Angel’s bullshit. Louis suspected they had managed to pay off the waiter to fix the air con to give a quick blast at their arrival because even their hair seemed to be streaming backwards like a shampoo commercial. There was Liam, unassuming yet tough, with his arms crossed firmly across his cotton shirt and his dress-shoed feet planted to the carpet like superman. It should have looked ridiculous, but with his scowling face, it just looked a bit scary. Next to him stood what Louis assumed was Caroline and now he came to think of it, maybe he had seen her before. Her long ombre hair and endless legs shone in the soft lighting, cut off by a lot of leather and rather scary looking studded shoes. Though her face was calm, it was perfectly clear that she could kick the shit out of him if she wanted to. And then there was Nick, who was wearing a ridiculous, blue tartan suit which was too short for his legs and had a quiff the size of Gibraltar. He was draped over Caroline’s right shoulder, his hip popped demonstratively and his eyes were narrowed at Louis is a look of sheer and unadulterated loathing. Fucking ace.

 

‘Hi guys!’ Harry shouted over the quiet tinkling of plates, waving unnecessarily. Liam’s face split into a wide, puppy dog smile and he jogged over, pulling Harry into a bear hug.

 

‘Here he is! The groom to be!’ he exclaimed happily, and thank god for Liam because his exclamation seemed to have broken through Caroline’s rather icy exterior. She took Louis’ outstretched hand and pulled him in for a kiss on the cheek.

 

‘Heard so much about you!’ she said smiling and whether or not she was just saying it to be polite, Louis felt his stomach clench and his cheeks heat with pure pleasure at the idea that Harry talked about him a lot. Liam was suddenly there, grabbing his hand and pulling him in for a bro-hug.

 

‘There’s no vodka shots around are there?’ Liam asked, his eyes bright and laughing, ‘I don’t think my single kidney has recovered from last time!’ And yeah okay, this boy _definitely_ had potential.

 

‘Maybe we can get the lounge band to play a little Adele if you’ve got some spare change-‘ Louis started, but the rest of his sentence was drowned out by a loud and slightly obnoxious laugh from Nick and, more surprisingly, Harry, who immediately clapped a large hand over his mouth.

 

Liam rolled his eyes. ‘I swear, if Harry and Troy weren’t getting married, I’d say _they_ were.’ He jerked a thumb in Harry and Nick’s direction. Louis just really fucking hated Nick. Which was unfortunate as Nick was in the process of turning towards him at that very second.

 

He plastered a smile on his face: ‘Hey Nick, how are you?’ he asked, aware that he sounded like a moron. Nick paused for one second, giving him an obvious and derisive look up and down and then, with a final glance which was filled with malice, walked away towards the table Harry and Louis had been sitting at, not giving a single acknowledgement to Louis’ presence or existence. Liam exchanged a completely bewildered look with Caroline before staring back at Nick’s retreating quiff.

 

‘Well, this isn’t awkward,’ he attempted, smiling brightly and taking Caroline’s arm, following Nick to the table. Louis was surprised when Harry slung an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in the same direction.

 

‘Just remember,’ grinned Harry, speaking in a low voice, ‘I love you for doing this okay?’ And Louis’ heart gave a pathetically hopeful squeeze as he gripped on to Harry’s shirt for dear life.

 

The lunch was extremely awkward at best, saved only by the herculean efforts of Liam and the comforting bumping of Harry’s knee against Louis’ thigh, a movement that Louis refused to lean into, just in case he started to do something really stupid like trying to grope Harry under the table. Luckily, the look of burning hatred that Nick was shooting him over the sugar bowl served as an effective mood-killer, along with the extremely loud and exasperated sighs that Nick huffed every time Louis opened his mouth to talk.

 

‘So Louis,’ started Liam through a mouthful of macaroon, ignoring the sigh from Nick which was so loud that it actually contained a small growl, ‘Have you met Troy yet?’

 

‘Yes,’ Louis tried to make his smile look like he didn’t want to brutally murder High School Musical, a mission he wasn’t quite sure he’d achieved.

 

‘Isn’t he dreamy?’ Liam’s smile took on a wistful quality that made Louis want to stab himself in the eye with a cake fork.

 

‘Absolutely,’ he squeezed through gritted teeth.

 

‘Although,’ continued Liam, considering, ‘I generally prefer the more dark and mysterious types. But each to their own!’ He shot a reassuring smile to Harry, bless him.

 

Nick chuckled a little. ‘Variety is the spice of life!’ he remarked. ‘Could someone please pass the cream?’ Louis looked down at the cream jug which sat coincidentally right in front of his plate. Reminding himself that he was _playing nice,_ Louis held the cream jug out to Nick with a smile. Nick focused on the wall in the opposite direction of Louis. ‘Could someone who’s not a manipulative fuckwit please pass the cream?’ He said in an icy voice. Louis didn’t know whether to feel intensely embarrassed or laugh. He was thankfully saved by Harry’s phone starting to buzz loudly on the table while a horrified looking Liam grabbed the jug of cream and placed it in front of Nick.

 

‘Thank you Liam,’ Nick said cheerfully, with a hard smile in the boy’s direction. Liam looked thoroughly confused.

 

‘Guys, it’s Troy,’ Harry said smiling, covering the phone speaker with a hand and shuffling his chair back. The table erupted into a chorus of ‘awhh!’s as Harry ducked his head with a blush, getting up and wandering over to a secluded sofa to take the call. Louis glared at the mobile phone: maybe if he concentrated hard enough, it would burst into flames. It would leave Harry with admittedly debilitating facial burns, but anything to get High School Musical to take the hint would be worth it. Plus, Louis could be a very good nurse when he wanted to be. A sudden and rather vivid image of him and Harry playing doctors and nurses blossomed in his mind and Louis grimaced at the inappropriateness of it all. How had he been reduced to this in a matter of weeks?

 

‘Okay,’ a businesslike tone suddenly cut into Louis thought process and he turned, surprised to see Liam staring solemnly around the table, small notepad and pen in hand, looking like he was about to conduct a drug deal. ‘We leave for America in nine days so we have to act quickly.’ Louis was about to laugh when Nick cut in.

 

‘Exactly. I’ve been a best man six times so I’ll organise everything that needs to be done even though,’ Nick paused with a pained grimace, ‘I’m not the official best man here.’

 

‘Hey!’ interrupted Louis a little indignantly, ‘What if I want to take care of… everything?’ Nick turned to him with a mocking smile and opened his mouth to retort.

 

‘C’mon guys,’ said Liam worriedly, ‘I’m sure there’s enough jobs to go round.’ Caroline took a sip of water, looking faintly bored. Louis felt completely out of his depth surrounded by these people. He turned slightly desperately to Harry’s empty chair before he remembered that he had been abandoned. A quick glance over to Harry’s sofa made him feel slightly better, especially as Harry caught his eye, shooting him a grin and a wink.

 

‘So I think it would be nice if we did a groom’s shower and a stag night,’ Liam was saying consulting his list, ‘And then we have the tuxedo fittings…’

 

‘I’ll do them!’ Caroline finally perked up, raising her hand.

 

‘Oh great,’ Liam smiled, putting a small tick on his notebook. ‘Um, shopping for Harry’s honeymoon stuff.’ Nick let out a filthy cackle at that, clapping his hands.

 

‘Shopping for his ‘trousseau’ don’t you mean,’ he said gleefully, and Caroline chuckled into her glass.

 

‘Er, what’s a trousseau?’ Louis asked, confused. If Nick’s eyes had rolled any more violently, they would have fallen out the back of his head.

 

‘Traditionally it’s bridal lingerie,’ he said, as if Louis was supposed to have memorised fucking bridal vocabulary. ‘It was a joke, just in case you managed to miss that as well.’

 

‘No, I got that,’ Louis said bristling.

 

‘How do you expect to be a good best man if you don’t know the first thing about weddings?’ Nick shot back.

 

Louis relaxed back in his seat, laughing. ‘Look guys, Nick’s talking to me!’

 

‘No I didn’t’ spat Nick looking furious with himself.

 

‘You just did!’

 

‘Oh I’m sorry Louis,’ Nick raised his eyebrows, hands curled into fists around the table and voice dripping with sarcasm, ‘Did I break a rule?’

 

‘Okay!’ Liam’s voice had shot up an octave since the last time he had spoken, ‘Why don’t we just focus on the wedding part for now huh? Good, okay I need dress and suit sizes.’

 

‘I’ll text you mine,’ said Nick, leaning back in his chair, ‘I need a custom fit for the length of leg.’ Louis scowled. What a pretentious douchebag.

 

‘Okay,’ Liam scribbled something in his notebook.

 

‘Four!’ said Caroline happily and Nick choked violently on his lemon tart. Liam looked stressed.

 

‘You know Caroline,’ he said nervously, ‘Don’t you think you might be more comfortable in like an eight or something? Four is supermodel skinny isn’t it?’

 

‘No,’ Caroline insisted, ‘You’ve got to be skinny to compete with these American women. I’m doing the Paul McKenna fast.’ She rooted around in her handbag for a moment before producing a plastic bottle with the most disgusting looking contents Louis had ever seen. It looked like someone had mixed some soil with a bit of water and shaken it repeatedly.

 

‘What is that?’ he couldn’t help asking, leaning forward to get a better look.

 

‘Water, peach resin, apple pectin, shark extract and a little bit of seasoning salt.’ Caroline recited quickly.

 

Louis heard Liam murmur ‘shark extract?’ in a bewildered voice from beside him.

 

‘But what about food?’ Louis asked, frowning.

 

‘Look,’ Caroline’s eyes had taken on a slightly frenzied look, ‘I am going to look amazing in that dress, I’m going to meet a rich American man and I’m going to be happy!’ She turned to Liam and hissed dangerously: ‘write down an eight.’

 

‘Got it,’ said Liam sounding slightly terrified.

 

‘What I want to know,’ drawled Nick, stretching his arms behind his head with a grin in Louis’ direction, ‘Is how much we’re going to have to fork out to fix an Armani suit for you, little princess Tomlinson?’

 

‘What I really want to know,’ bit back Louis, ‘Is how much we’re going to have to fork out for hairspray to keep that thing on top of your head alive Grimshaw?’

 

‘Okay guys that’s enough, that’s _enough_.’ Liam finally exploded, loud enough for the people at tables in their vicinity to turn around to find the source of the commotion. He blushed but continued in the same dangerous, but lower voice. ‘Sorry, but will you guys look at Harry please? Okay, he’s happy, finally. So could you please for Harry, let’s just all get along and act like everything is _perfect.’_ Louis, Nick and Caroline glanced at each other, slightly shocked before Nick sneered and looked away, nodding. Louis for his part felt quite ashamed of himself. In trying to prove to Harry that he was the one Harry should be with, he had so far managed to get into a petty argument, make a scene in one of the poshest hotels in London, and make an arch-enemy of one of Harry’s best friends. He was doing great.

 

He glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of a beaming Harry striding towards them and immediately burst into a hearty and hideously fake laugh which all the other’s hooked on to. There was a chorus of ‘what did he says?’ as Harry sat at the table, pulling Louis’ chocolate cake towards him and knocking his knee gently into Louis thigh again. Louis felt a burst of warm relief fill a hole in his chest that he wasn’t aware existed until that moment.

 

‘He’s so sweet,’ Harry mumbled into his fork, smiling a secret grin which Louis didn’t like.

 

‘So cute!’ they all exclaimed in one way or another, starting to sound like a workshop actor chorus.

 

‘So how’s it going?’ Harry asked, looking up at Louis brightly.

 

‘Good! Great!’ they all chorused, and this time, it really did feel like they were extras in a bad theatre production. Louis half expected a small Victorian boy to coming running in shouting ‘oom pa pa!’.

 

‘It’s pretty much done!’ said Liam in a slightly strangled voice and really, that boy was not going to be winning any Oscars soon. Harry gave him an odd look, before he turned the conversation to the topic of Liam’s love life.

 

The lunch lasted another excruciating hour, partly due to the fact that Harry insisted upon trying every single cake that Fortnum and Mason’s had to offer. The situation was made even more awkward by the salivating-verging-on-feral looks that Caroline kept shooting his food as she took swigs from her diet bottle.

 

Finally, Louis stood by the bronze lift doors, hugging Liam goodbye.

 

‘Call me if you need help with anything,’ Liam said anxiously programming his number into Louis’ phone, ‘I know you’ve been allocated a lot Lou so I’m always happy to help.’

 

‘Will do mate, thanks,’ Louis grinned, ruffling Liam’s hair, ‘Nice to see you again.’ Liam gave him a parting smile and then left him…alone with Nick.

 

Nick gave him a sour, appraising look, before reaching inside the pocket of his blazer. ‘Here.’ He shoved a business card at Louis.

 

‘What’s this?’ Louis asked squinting at the name on the card. Cara. Huh.

 

‘I hired her for my friend Matt’s birthday party last year and Harry loved it. She does…magic tricks and stuff.’ Louis squinted more closely at the elegant silver lettering. Magic tricks. Well this was…out of character. Louis felt a flood of relief as he smiled gratefully up at Nick again. So he had decided to bury the hatchet.

 

‘That’s great, thank you,’ he said sincerely.

 

Nick scoffed. ‘I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for Harry.’ Well if there was any mentality that Louis could sympathise with, it was that one.

 

‘Well thank you, for Harry,’ Louis tried again. There was an awkward pause.

 

‘You’re arse looks huge in those jeans,’ Nick spat before he too got into the lift and disappeared behind the doors. Louis chuckled, shaking his head and pocketing the card. An arm appeared around Louis’ shoulder.

 

‘What’s so funny?’ Harry asked, smiling down at him. They were disturbed for a second by Caroline giving Louis a kiss on the cheek and following in Nick’s footsteps.

 

‘Nothing,’ Louis said after she had gone, pulling Harry after him into the stairwell. ‘I just had a very nice bonding moment with Nick that’s all.’ Harry smiled delightedly before his eyebrows knitted.

 

‘I’m sorry about him today,’ he said as they followed the stairs down, ‘I don’t know why he was being such a dick to you, he’s not usually like that.’ Louis laughed nervously, casting frantically around for a change of subject. Luckily, Harry was ahead of him. ‘Can I ask you a favour Lou?’

 

‘Of course.’

 

‘Mum and Gem are arriving tomorrow, and I have so much to plan, I was wondering if you and the guys could entertain Troy for the day?’ Louis stomach sank. No he fucking couldn’t entertain High School Musical for the day. There was a very real chance that he might throw him accidently into the Thames.

 

‘Entertain him?’ Louis asked, keeping his tone flat. He wondered what Zayn and Niall would have to say about this turn of events.

 

‘Yeah, just get to know him and stuff?’ He turned to Harry who was looking deliciously hopeful, green eyes shiny and wide. He sighed because really. How could he say no to that?

 

‘Sure, yeah.’ He said, and it was worth it for the relieved look on Harry’s face.

 

‘You’re the best Lou,’ Harry grinned, pulling him into a hug.

 

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Louis chuckled, pulling Harry closer and oh god it was really not appropriate to smell your ‘best friend’ but there he went again.

 

This was going to be interesting. 


End file.
